


Beautiful Remains

by Castielchester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angels as Novaks, Broken Castiel, Castiel-centric, Child Sexual Abuse is not used as Kink, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Childhood Trauma, Chuck is a Bad Father, Dissociation, Eventual Happy Ending, Flashbacks, Forced Drinking, Forced Orgasm, Good Big Brother Gabriel, Good Big Brother Lucifer, Good Big Brother Michael, High School, Holy Crap Dean is Actually Comfortable with his Bisexuality, Hurt Castiel, I am a piece of literal shit, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Incest, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Isolation, Just Testing the waters with this one, M/M, Mental Anguish, Mental Instability, Naive Castiel, Not a Feel Good fic to begin with, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, Parent/Child Incest, Past Child Abuse, Physical Abuse, Protective Dean Winchester, Sexual Abuse, Slow Burn, So much angst, Social Anxiety, Triggers, WIP, tons of flashbacks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-12
Updated: 2015-09-03
Packaged: 2018-04-14 07:59:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4556874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Castielchester/pseuds/Castielchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel was his favorite, he always said, and this was how he showed him how much he loved him.<br/>The first fourteen years of Castiel's life are spent being told that he is too sick to leave the house or be around his brothers for too long; forced to comply at the perverted hands of his father.<br/>This summary is terrible, I am obsessed with good big brother Novaks and protective Dean.</p><p>NOT abandoned, Back after December!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Exordium

**Author's Note:**

> I already have a lot of chapters wrote out BUT I am only posting this to see if it is received well, if not I will delete it. Just wanting to see if it's something you all want to see more of. 
> 
> WARNINGS: This story will revolve around Castiel being sexually abused and isolated by his father for most of his life. Flashbacks will be in italics if you would like to skip the scenes THAT CAN GET GRAPHIC. 
> 
> But uh other than that enjoy. No Beta. Mistakes are mine.

_‘Why don’t you come over here, Cas baby, come sit on daddy’s lap.’ The raven haired boy stumbles forward from his hiding spot in the kitchen, moving hesitantly until he could climb onto his father’s lap. He nestled on top of the man’s legs folding his own criss cross and placing his hands on his thighs. He released a slow breath and peered at the movie all of his brothers were engrossed in; some flick about a man that was also a spider._ _He could smell his father’s distinct musk, whiskey and pine spice; it was comforting as it was unsettling. Castiel loved his father, his father favored him among all the others. His father called him beautiful, told him he was his most prized possession; that he was the prettiest angel ever. Castiel shifted slightly as his father runs a large calloused hand down his arm, slow, causing the rising of gooseflesh. This is okay, Castiel knows this is how fathers show their love and his father liked to show him a lot. His father absently takes a swig of the beer in his other hand, leaving his right to trail down Castiel’s back, stopping at the hem of his shirt and diving underneath so his fingers can flick up and caress his spine. Castiel feels a bit shaky but his father whispers gentle blessings into his ear, breath hitting Castiel’s cheek and leaving the smell of alcohol. He flattens his palm and runs it up Castiel’s back toward his neck messaging for a moment and then trailing back down with only a slight scratch of his finger nails. Castiel can feel something hard poking into his bottom and he knows his father his pleased with him. He almost chokes out as fingers trail down and dip into his sweats barely nudging the cleft of his bottom. ‘Castiel, would you like to go make popcorn with me?’ The sudden voice of his brother Michael is unexpected and causes him to jump and the hand to fly off of his body and rest awkwardly aside. Michael is glaring at father. Castiel smiles because he likes being with his brothers, nodding he jumps up and into the kitchen. Michael casts one last accusatory look at father before he turns away._

* * *

 

“Cassie, _Cassie_ get your ass up!” The amiable groan of Gabriel is not what wakes him but the sudden assault of cold air as his blankets are tore from his body. “Gaaaaaabe” Castiel usually isn’t one to whine but the sun isn’t even flashing through the windows and _goddamn when did it get so cold?_   “Cassie, it’s time to get ready for school” and with that Castiel’s mood shifts, his stomach ices over and he slowly sits up. _Oh yeah school…_

Gabriel must sense his mood shift and smiles sympathetically, “You’ll get used to the whole time thing,” he knows that’s not the problem but it helps to avoid the elephant in the room. “Thank you Gabriel, I suppose I should tend to getting ready now” Castiel runs his fingers through his unruly hair and heads for his wardrobe. He’s picked out a simple outfit, never having to dress for school before, he _had_ settled on a nice suit but Lucifer had chuckled and told him high school was not the occasion, so after his shower he pulls on black jeans and a long-sleeved dark blue and black striped shirt.

He quickly finishes his other tasks, brushing his teeth and making his bed, before he goes to the door to continue downstairs where he can hear the bustle of his brothers. Castiel freezes with his hand on the knob, sighing deeply; his father’s voice ringing in the back of his head

 

_'School is dangerous for people like you angel, that’s why I keep you home, with me, nice and safe'_

Castiel shakes his head as if to rattle the voice loose and continues out and down to the kitchen, the scene that greets him succeeds in making him feel somewhat warm and content despite his anxiety. Michael stands at the stove flipping pancakes, Lucifer next to him buttering toast, wearing a ridiculous apron that donned a picture of the devil holding a spatula.

Castiel peers over to see Gabriel squeezing an _ungodly_ amount of chocolate sauce into milk as Lucifer occasionally glares at him and mutters things about diabetes and blood sugar. Castiel shakes his head because no matter how impossible his brothers can be, he loves them more than anything.

Michael is setting a plate of pancakes on the table when he finally spies Castiel who has unintentionally pressed himself against the opening frame of the kitchen, hiding half of his body, much like he did when he was younger and didn’t want to disturb their father. “Castiel” he smiles and ignores the flinch, “Come get some breakfast.” The youngest Novak nods a tad and moves to sit in his seat, eyes down as Michael makes his plate. It is true that his brothers baby him more than normal, they watch over him almost obsessively, caring for him as if he were a glass vase, ready to shatter at any moment. _Too bad,_ Castiel twitched his lip sadly,   _I’m already broken_.

 

♢ 

 

Michael and Lucifer, being Castiel's legal guardians now, had already discussed it the night before, they would drive the boys to school as to keep Castiel’s anxiety at bay for as long as possible but, as the raven haired boy went to pick up his book bag, Lucifer can see his fingers digging into his palm. Gabriel is shoving things into Castiel’s bookbag as Lucifer pushes his twin aside and sighs, “He’s scared shitless Mikey...can’t...can’t we wait for another day or so?” Michael sighs but shakes his head firmly, he’s just as worried as Lucifer but he can’t let that get the better of him, Castiel _has_ to go to school, there was no argument about it. “Luce, I know you’re worried but he needs to go to school. We can’t keep him from an education. I know it’s not ideal but we just can’t afford homeschooling any longer and if we delay it, it will just get harder for him” his blue eyes plead for understanding as Lucifer nods eventually, “I know...I just hate seeing him like this.” Michael sighs and forces a smile, walking over to where Castiel is listening to Gabriel babble on about courses and whatnot. “Alright little hoodlums, let’s get you out!” He tries to sound amiable and enthusiastic, ushering them towards the car. Castiel looks around, taking in the crisp morning air; the sun is just barely peeking up and casting a pinkish color across the sky. He doesn’t leave the house too often but when he does he always remembers to take in the scenery. Castiel shudders as he remembers what his father used to say when he would ask to join his brothers outside;

 

_'There are bad people out there angel, bad people that want to take you away. I’m only doing what’s best. You'll be healthy soon.'_

 

“Cassie” fingers are snapping in front of his face and he is pulled back to reality to very worried looking brothers, “S-Sorry” his voice is barely above a whisper as he climbs into the car and buckles himself up while the others exchanged worried glances.

By the time they reach Lawrence High, Castiel has four more crescent shaped scars dug into his palm.

The parking lot is full of cars and students all carelessly bunched into small or large groups; Castiel swallows hard, they all have their cliques, they’ve all known each other for years, and here he is, the only friends he’s ever known are his brothers. Castiel makes it a mission to walk as quickly as he can to the office, walking close enough to Michael’s back that when he stops Castiel rams into him. “Sorry-sorry” he mumbles out as Michael waves him off and they continue until they’re standing in the main office. A kind looking girl is perched behind the desk and quickly turns her attention to Michael, “Hello Michael! What brings you in? Gabriel couldn’t have screwed up again so soon?” Castiel feels a sudden contempt towards this woman when she speaks about one of his brothers, but the way they all laugh, including Gabriel, stifles Castiel’s anger; he never could pick up on sarcasm.

“No not for Gabey here today. I’m here to bring my little brother in for his first day, this is Castiel” He moves aside from where Castiel had strategically hid himself behind his older brother, “H-hello” Castiel manages out as the girl smiles brightly and flicks her red hair, “Hello Castiel! My name is Charlie! It’s so nice to finally meet you, let me grab your schedule and get you on your way! We are so glad to have you here!” She’s so overly enthusiastic that Castiel _almost_ rolls his eyes, but he twitches his lip and nods, waiting.

When he receives his schedule it all becomes real, Michael and Lucifer are saying their goodbyes, “Okay Castiel, everything is going to be fine, just keep with Gabe and it will all be okay, and if anything goes wrong just text me and I will come right away, I promise and-” Michael is pulled from his babbling by Gabriel mentioning the warning bell, Michael smiles at Castiel and squeezes his shoulder, Castiel gives him a small smile and presses two fingers against Michael’s palm as if to say, _It will be okay. I will be okay._ Lucifer is next, smiling, holding his hand up so Castiel will put his against it, that is how they hug when Lucifer knows everything is too much, “You’ll do great.” With that the eldest Novaks are off, leaving the youngest Novak's to scamper out into the thinning hallways.

Castiel’s schedule shows that he will have English Comp. first so Gabriel shows him to the classroom just as the bell rings. Gabriel stands in front of Castiel who is trembling now and looking half faint. “Hey...hey, it’s going to be okay Cassie, I’ll be right outside this classroom as soon as it ends okay?” Gabriel assures, Castiel nods and swallows, not looking convinced, “You’re the smartest kid ever Castiel, you can do this.” Castiel nods and _God they are all going to be so disappointed_ because he really doesn’t feel like he can do it as he sees him walk toward his own classroom.

Castiel has never been without his brothers, so as he enters the classroom and literally fucking _hears_ the rooms fall silent he can feel his composure start to crack. The teacher looks up with a smile and walks forward motioning for him to stand in the front, “Hello! You must be the new student! My name is Ms. Harvelle! Why don’t you introduce yourself?” Castiel’s eyes widen, his brother hadn’t informed him of this, he looks toward the students who are staring quietly and then back at the teacher. She must see the look of confusion so she prompts him, “Why don’t you start with your name?” He wishes in this moment he could run out of the room and back home. Wishes he could dive underneath the covers and scream and scream until he falls into blissful unconsciousness and _oh,_ he’s supposed to be speaking right now, not standing there mute.

“M-my name is C-Castiel Novak” he nods a tad as for confirmation, and fixes his eyes back on the teacher as she smiles sympathetically, “What a beautiful name” she comments but the others don’t seem to agree because there's an eruption of giggles and sneers; so Castiel inhales deeply and takes the walk of shame to the back of the classroom, almost losing his footing and crashing into the ground as a leg is held out with the intention of tripping him.

He awkwardly drops into his seat, setting his book bag down on the floor and grabbing out his notebook and pencil to set on the desk just like Gabriel had told him; _you have to at least try to make it look like you’re learning._ Castiel frowns to himself because he knows that's most likely what Gabriel actually does and is why Michael is always on him for such low marks on tests; he, however, enjoys learning, but he had a lot more when he could do it from the safety of his own home. Castiel peers down at the table which is etched with profanity and crude drawings that make his heart clench with sadness and debilitating fear. The classroom seemed entirely too small to hold the sweaty, pubescent bodies within, the tables all in close proximity that Castiel could just  _feel_ the eyes on him. He knows he isn't a normal teenager, knows deep within his heart that he doesn't belong out here with all the perfectly sane humans that have no idea what it's like to be a prisoner in their own minds, plagued by memories and phantom sicknesses. 

_'You're sick Castiel. I know you might feel fine but there's something inside of you, only I know how to make it all better okay? Now come here, come lay down with me.'_

Castiel shakes his head, bringing his fingers to run through his hair, ruffling it up worse, but not caring in the least. Out of the corner of his eye he catches a glimpse of green, brilliant green, turning to face the magnificent color he is face to face with another student, whose eyes are trained carefully on his own, for a moment Castiel finds himself lost within the gems but quickly averts his eyes when he hears the teacher drop a book on her desk. The raven haired boy feels his face heat up, painted in his vision are those irises, that seem to compliment every part of the handsome boy next to him. "My name is Dean Winchester" He whispers waiting for a moment but not receiving a reaction, "Like the gun" he adds quickly.

Castiel looks up to him, tilting his head and squinting in the way he does when he's confused, he's never really been into guns, so he'll have to take green eyes word for it. Castiel finds his tongue lying limp in his mouth, refusing to work and give the poor boy next to him at least some kind of greeting; his hands shake in his lap and feel clammy. He's not used to talking to new people, not at all, and for a fleeting second he is worried that perhaps he has a fever but shakes his fathers thoughts from his head. "C-Castiel Novak..." He forces out, worrying his lip and then shaking his head, "Like nothing..." He feels entirely too embarrassed to look up as Dean chuckles, "No. Like the angel" he whispers back, the word piercing Castiel like ice covered needles.   
  
_'You're my little angel Castiel. Yes you are. My pretty, little angel.'_

Castiel shakes his head and is about to deny it but the bell screeches, causing him to jump and look about rapidly for the fire, but all he sees are students filing out in a bored fashion, "Whoa dude!" Dean's voice is huskier without the guise of a whisper, "It's just the bell, you look like you've never been to school before" he chuckles, running a hand through his sandy hair, watching Castiel closely as he gathers his pack up. "I-uh...I haven't,  _Dean"_ He bites the inside of his cheek, he already feels exhausted and it's only second bell. Dean, in turn, gives _him_ the questioning look as they both walk into the hallway, Castiel shrinking as close to the wall as possible and fishing out his schedule, "I've b-been home-schooled my whole life...this is all new" he informs the boy next to him, looking over his schedule futilely, stopping as Gabriel strides forward, "Castiel hey," he's biting on a candy bar as he smiles toward his little brother and then looks to Dean, "Jesus Winchester, already corrupting him? Careful, Lucifer is my brother and you know what he's capable of" He grins impishly. 

Dean looks sheepishly at Castiel and then Gabriel, "He's your brother? That's impossible!" He throws out as Gabriel scans Castiel's classes, "Why's that Dean-o?" Castiel watches Dean and his brother interact, taking in the smattering of freckles on the taller boys face that seem to contrast perfectly with his cheekbones. "Because he's cool and you're completely _insufferable._ " With that Gabriel laughs out loud, narrowing his eyes at the Winchester, "Insufferable? Has Sam been giving you vocabulary lessons? I'm impressed!" They joke back and forth, leaving Castiel to balance on his two feet and wait patiently; he grips both straps of his book bag that rests on his back and stares at the ground, trying to memorize the prompt for Ms. Harvelle's upcoming essay.

The hallways flood back and forth with teenagers, yelling and laughing, it all is completely overwhelming and once again Castiel finds himself longing to be curled up under his bed-sheets, safe from the world. He closes his eyes and counts, breathing in and out rhythmically as to calm himself down and he's almost completely relaxed when a tall body comes bounding up next to him, placing a rough hand on his back, "You must be Castiel!" His voice is so amiable, but Castiel can't see for fear of passing out if he moves even an inch, all he can do is remember hands.

Rough, calloused hands running over his bare flesh, the grip strong on his shoulders as he is held in place. The tremors start in his own hands as his heart beats rapidly against his chest, making his mind fog and his vision unfocused, as he gasps out in desperate need of a nice, quiet place, "Castiel this is my little brother Samm-Castiel?" The voices around him are beginning to sound worried, Castiel wishes he could wave them off and tell them not to worry of him, but Gabriel is quickly grabbing his shoulders and guiding him to a deserted area of the student lounge, forcing him to sit on the bench. "Deep breaths Cassie, c'mon, no worries, just breathe" he instructs, breathing along with him till Castiel's vision clears and his hands only shake slightly. 

Castiel looks up to his brother's worried, whiskey colored eyes, "Cassie, are you okay?" Castiel nods and forces a weak smile, "Sorr-y about that Gabe, He just... gave me a scare. I'm okay" Gabriel looks unconvinced but nods anyway, "So, your next class is Biochem, this way" he guides him gently.

♢ 

Castiel quickly learns that Dean Winchester is in most of his classes, albeit being in the same grade as Gabriel;  _he doesn't apply himself,_ Sam, Dean's brother, tells him. Castiel finds himself more at ease around Dean, and, for the most part, around Sam as well. They both sit in French class, although Castiel is near fluent, talking, mostly Dean, about anything. "So Cas. I'm going to call you that okay? What do you do?" He asks when their teacher announces he has finished for the day. Castiel flusters quickly, knowing he really doesn't do much. "I-I write sometimes..." he quirks a small smile as Dean gives him a wide one, "That's cool. Maybe I could read sometime, yeah?" He is leaning back in his chair so he is only on two legs, Castiel wishes to tell him it is dangerous, instead he just nods, "Perhaps." 

The end of the day finds Castiel exhausted mentally, in all sense of the word, as Dean, his new official guide when Gabriel is unavailable, walks with him to the exit doors. "T-Thank you Dean for helping me today" Castiel smiles at him, ducking his head as Dean flashes another amazing smile, "What are friends for?" He replies and Castiel feels a warmth spread throughout him.  _Dean wants to be my friend. Dean is my friend. I have a friend._ "Okay" Castiel feels himself smile a little more as he waves his goodbye and clamors in Michael's Honda next to Gabriel. They buckle up before Michael speaks up, "How was it?" Castiel knows it's directed towards him but Gabriel blabbers on until Lucifer tells him to shut it and looks toward Castiel worriedly, "I believe...It went well" Castiel thinks and then nods towards his protective older brothers who give him small smiles and leave him be to process his day. 

Finally home, Castiel drops his bag and swaps his jeans for pajama pants and a loose shirt, falling on top of his sheets, mulling over his day. He'd gotten by without much incident, but he feels that continuing is too good to be true so he doesn't let himself become hopeful that he may just fit in. He shakes his head and switches to his,  _friend,_ Dean Winchester, with his spruce eyes and award winning smile, who  _wants to be friends with me._ Castiel finds a small buzz in his chest to feel quite content, it's not the usual coil of anxiety but something...hopeful? He presses his face into his pillow as he imagines the smell of leather and motor oil that intoxicated him the entire day, he wouldn't mind drowning in that smell that was totally, irrevocably  _Dean._

He lets his mind focus on the lines and muscle that seem to make up Dean, imagining what it would be like to be enveloped in his strong arms, away from the past. He feels a new dizzying heat, one he hasn't felt in a long,  _long_ time and it isn't until the heat coils around his belly that he shoots up in horror, realizing belatedly that he is actually  _hard,_ achingly so. He feels contempt and disgust unfurl in his body, surging through his veins and making bile rise in his throat. Anger at himself for letting such a thing happen, for thinking about Dean in such a way that he was not supposed to be. Castiel shakes his head, willing his erection down, stifling a scream in his throat, nothing seems to help, his body hellbent on some kind of release. Castiel shoots off his bed, anger at himself and the world coursing through his body as he tugs at tufts of his hair, knocks over his nightstand,  _something_ to will his body compliant again. 

It isn't until he looks down at his hands, focusing on the way the fingers on his right seem a bit crooked and strange, that he feels himself come to, remembering the words of his father. He stares at his unshapely fingers for what seems like hours until his erection is gone and his belly is replaced with a sickening memory. 

No. He could not allow Dean to come that close again.

* * *

 

_All kinds of things were happening to Castiel’s body. He wasn’t sure what it was, his father had never let him take any biology books or anatomy courses, so he was a bit frightened. His skin felt more sensitive, especially around his groin area. He was used to his father rubbing his hands down there but he never had a reaction. This morning, though, Castiel had awoken to an uncomfortable tightness in his Marvel pajama pants. He shifted a little, not sure what he was supposed to do about it. When he fully awakes from his grogginess he feels it tenfold, a pulsing heat that made his little prick twitch. He looked around to tell his father about it but he was nowhere to be found, so Castiel found himself closing his eyes and hoping it would just stop soon. But it didn’t, it got worse and he found himself unconsciously hovering his hand over his crotch, almost like instinct. He let himself suffer a little while longer before he lay his palm flat on his crotch, mewling out a tad when his over-sensitive area flares at contact. It felt wonderful! Castiel hurriedly starts palming at his hard member, feeling the electricity move throughout, putting him on the edge but unfortunately not allowing him any further. He let out a low whine when it began to ache, this causing him to act purely on instinct, pulling his pants down and rubbing his little hands all over his cock. He worked at it clumsily, palming and rubbing till it hurt, letting out whines and cries the entire time. Through Castiel’s cries he did not hear someone enter the room, and it’s not until his wrist is gripped harshly that he opens his eyes and looks up with a gasp. His father stands over him, anger etching every line of his face. “F-Father?” it was barely a whisper but just that seemed to elicit more anger from the man as he jerks Castiel toward him by his hand, “And just what do you think you’re doing young man?” he was loud and accusatory, the tone he used when Castiel had done something wrong, this causes Castiel’s stomach to sour. He didn’t like disobeying his father. “I-I…” Castiel wasn’t sure how to answer because he wasn’t sure exactly what he was doing. “I’ve told you boy” his father hissed, looking down at Castiel’s slender fingers, “No one. No one is allowed to touch you,” he grabs a hold of the young boy’s pointer finger and pushes it back, back, CRACK! The breath catches in Castiel’s throat and his eyes blow wide, he wants to scream but he can’t because father keeps talking, “Not even you Castiel” he moves on to the middle finger, going slower this time, letting Castiel yelp out a noise of utter pain as his other finger is broke back. “You’re mine” CRACK! there goes his ring finger. “Only mine” and last his pinky. Castiel feels his breath hitch and tears spill down his face as he watches his fingers swell and purple maddeningly. "Do you understand? No one can touch you. Not you or anyone else ever. Do I make myself clear?" He growls, reaching down and tightening his hand around the boy's member, squeezing enough to elicit a yelp of pain from Castiel who feels his eyes water and nods quickly, "Yes, Sir!"_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO, this is shit and I am shit; BUT If you want to see it continued let me know. Thanks for reading it mortals.  
> I'm aiming for flashbacks to start each chapter and end each


	2. Anthem Of The Angels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel is still haunted by his past but finds himself head first in a friendship with the Winchester's and feeling the walls he's struggled so hard to keep up slowly crumble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, people actually like it! Wow! Thanks guys, I'm really honored to have awesome readers like you! As promised here's more. Again ITALICS are GRAPHIC depictions of child sexual abuse and in this chapter graphic non-con oral sex. A little bit of establishing Destiel fluff tho! Yey!
> 
> Enjoy! Let me know if you want more!
> 
> (This chapter involves a little of Castiel dissociating, which is one way a person could cope with past traumas, it can block out memories, identity etc. I experience this from time to time, I have BPD, and so I'm just going off of my experiences, although it's different for everyone. Although what Castiel is going through is more of Dissociative amnesia which is common with sexual abuse survivors)

 

* * *

 

_Castiel woke up covered in sweat, soaked through his night shirt and pajama pants, his stomach rolling tremulously. He trembled as he turned to face his sleeping father in their bed, his father had explained that it would be safer for him if they shared a room. As Castiel moves he distinctly feels more wetness between his legs, realizing, belatedly, that he had wet the bed. His bottom lip wobbles as he gathers the front of his shirt and nibbles on the collar of it, too afraid to wake up his father for fear of punishment. Castiel had thought he was getting better, feeling better, but then his father had given him those pills and now… “What are you doing up angel?” he is shook from his thoughts by his father opening his fatigued eyes and looking at him suspiciously, making Castiel tremble harder, but he knew it would be worse if he didn’t answer, “Daddy I… I had an accident.” He winced at the words because he’s seven, a big boy, he shouldn’t be doing this. His father raises an eyebrow looking at Castiel’s sweaty forehead down to the dark spot between his legs, “It’s okay Castiel. You’re sick. Things like this happen” His voice is steady, almost far away, shaking Castiel from his fear filled thoughts and looking at his father surprised. He doesn’t turn on the light, so only the moon spills luminescence through the window, guiding his father’s way to grab a small wash cloth, dampening it and climbing back on the bed, hovering over top Castiel who looked up his father with wide eyes. The little boy felt the scrape of his father’s knuckles against his protruding hipbones as he took the elastic of his pajama pants in each hand and slowly peeled them down, watched the way his eyes seem to deepen as Castiel’s cock is freed, seeming to savor the small whimper that escaped the boy when he feels cold air hit the wet, sensitive skin of his groin. His father pulled the pants down all the way and threw them to the floor near the hamper, taking the cloth and first wiping the sweat from his son’s head, “You have a fever again… I’ll have to pick up more pills for you” he is seemingly talking to himself but Castiel wants to cry out because those pills are what made him feel bad in the first place, “But Dad-” he is cut off by his father pressing his lips down on his own, pulling back after a quick moment, “Shh, I’ll make you feel better okay? Do you want special kisses?” Castiel didn’t really, but, he liked to see his father happy so he just quietly nodded, flopping his hair in his eyes as his father reached back down and gently runs his tongue across his bottom lip, coaxing Castiel to drop his mouth open for him. After a moment of kissing his father reaches back up, taking Castiel’s little cock in his hand and smiling, “Here we go.”_

 

* * *

 

“Cas-ti- _el_!” He is pulled from his head by the worrisome pronunciation of his name, face to face with Michael holding a plate of food. “Eh. Sorry. What?” Castiel scrunches his brows and tries to expel the syrupy feeling in his head, it makes his thoughts feel heavy and they happen in slow motion. He wonders how long he’d been sitting here on the couch, just staring at the blank TV, _remembering_. He’d tries so hard to convince himself the past is in the past and could no longer hurt him but his brain never seems to get the news. “ _Castiel_!” He jerks back up again, looking at his brother sheepishly, he’d zoned out again. “Sorry Michael, I’m just-I’m tired” He pulls himself from the spot on the couch, throwing a small smile toward his older brother and tries to walk to his room. _Bed. Sleep. Yes._  “Now, wait a minute!” He doesn’t hear the voice, only feels the hand clutch at his wrist, trying to pull him back; he knows, _knows_ his brother would never do anything intentionally to hurt him but his brain has a way of short circuiting at the worst times, making a habit of forcing unwarranted thoughts and memories into light when least expected.

****_'Don’t you dare walk away from me young man, I will_ make _you wish you had never even tried.'_

 

Castiel can feel the beating of tears behind his eyes and the phantom sting of a hand to his face as he twists in the hold, “No! Don’t touch me!” he vaguely registers that his, _typically_ , low voice has gone up a few octaves as he accidentally flails out and knocks the plate from Michael’s hand, coming back to as the sound of ceramic shattering on wood reverberates throughout his bones. He’s pulling back so hard that the moment he is released he falls on his butt, staring down at the broken plate with wide eyes, his chest heaving quickly, silence filling the room for a minute before he finally scrambles over and begins picking up the pieces of the plate, “Oh god Michael, I’m so sorry. I-I didn’t mean to break it, I thought- I wasn’t- I didn’t. I’m _sorry_ ” he babbles out quickly until a gentle hand is placed on his own, forcing him to look up to his brother, who's worried look makes him feel worse, “Cas. It’s okay. Stop, it’s okay. Just calm down a moment, okay bud?” His voice is full of concern as he helps the youngest Novak to his feet, “Are _you_ okay Castiel? Because if anything is… if you’re feeling overwhelmed or anything we can-” Michael is struggling with the right words, pressing his lips together as Castiel stops him, “I-I’m okay Mike. I just…was scared and just…I’m... sorry I broke the plate” He forces a small smile, nodding and backing up slowly, “It’s okay Cas. No worries okay? Just… let me know if things get too much okay?” Castiel nods again and retreats back to his room, pressing the door shut and placing his forehead against it, taking in steady breaths.

_'Come here Castiel, why don’t you let me make it better. You know you love it. I know you do.'_

 

He doesn’t want to be assaulted by thoughts and memories right now, he doesn’t want to think about anything, like the way his brothers tiptoe around him and act like he’s a bomb ready to go off, or how other people look at him like he’s some kind of foreign being that’s not from earth, and he _especially_ doesn’t want to think about Dean Winchester and his beautiful green eyes and bright smile that seems to reach inside of him and penetrate every bit of darkness. Yeah. He doesn’t want to think about that. But he's never been one to get what he wants, so pressing there against the door an ambush of memories play behind his eyelids, as if they were permanently seared there, stuck like broken video reel, doomed to repeat over and over for the rest of eternity.

_'You’re mine Castiel. Don’t forget that. I own you Castiel, I own you.'_

 

He scurries over to his bed, taking the picture of his brothers, him and their father off his desk and setting it in the drawer, closing it, settling himself in between the desk and his bed, wedged in the corner. He draws his knees up to his chest and runs his hands in his hair, weaving his fingers through the short locks as he lays his forehead on his knees; with a silent prayer he begs every thought away, shoving memories, faces and himself far to the crypts of his mind as he allows the darkness within him to poke out and engulf him, blinding out his eyes and deafening his ears; the abyss that slowly itches underneath his skin is oozing out and promising safety within it’s arms. He sits there until he can’t really remember how to move, staring straight into the blackness that has bathed him his entire life, blissfully ignorant to the thoughts in his own head now that they seem to be blocked by an invisible wall. He feels his body go slack, not remembering who he is really but, for the time being, safe from his own mind.

♢

Lucifer knows he should be used to it, but it doesn’t make it any easier when he walks into his little brothers room to see him curled up on the floor, eyes staring at the wall, or, rather, past it; he hates to think his thoughts are emptier than his eyes in these moments. The elder Novak sighs, walking over and pulling Castiel up, guiding him over to his bed and sitting him down. “Cassie? Hey hold this, here” he curls Castiel’s hand around a glass of water, making sure he’s actually holding it before he jiggles a pill out of the bottle in his own hand.

Castiel still doesn’t show any sign of being at least halfway lucid, his azure eyes seeming to be grayed over and dull. “Pills Cassie, this’ll make you feel better ‘kay?” He doesn’t expect an answer as he holds the tablet to his brother, who sits limply, eventually letting out a sigh, “Take this, okay?” Lucifer tries not to flinch as Castiel automatically obliges and grabs the pill putting it on the back of his tongue, bringing his shaking hand up and sipping the water. “Okay. We’re okay. You’re okay now” Lucifer nudges him back on the pillows, avoiding the confused look in his little brother's eyes; peering around as though he doesn’t even know where he is.

Pulling off Castiel’s shoes and socks, setting them aside, he pulls the comforter up and around his neck, tucking him in and giving him a small smile, “Goodnight Castiel.” For a few moments he sits there, listening to Castiel’s breathing, but soon gathers himself enough to click off the light and head out towards the living room where Michael is reading through another ‘Survivor's Guide’.

Lucifer _hates_ those books, they never actually give helpful advice on how to deal with any kind of real trauma; sure they explain how the trauma comes to, perhaps they tell the reader what _could_ happen but, they never seem to explain to the unsuspecting reader about the reality, like waking up in the middle of the night to bloodcurdling screams, but being unable to comfort or walking in on blank, emotionless eyes, that sit there for hours on end, doing nothing. They don’t explain to those readers that little things will trigger attacks, things like certain colored blankets or the way a body spray smells; that even the lightest, most innocent of touches can stem a full blown panic attack and they certainly don’t prepare the reader for a little brother that seems broken beyond actual repair. _They’re worthless_ , Lucifer shakes his head, sitting down and plucking the offensive thing from his brothers hand and throwing it aside.

“I was reading that!” Michael glares at him but it comes out more whiny than authoritative which causes his cheeks to redden slightly as Lucifer chuckles, “What is it going to tell us that we don’t already know bro? A cure? Doubt it, because he’s not… _sick_ ” he winces at his own usage of words as Michael sighs and bites the inside of his cheek, contemplating. “Before you ask, I got him up, gave him his pills and put him to bed” Lucifer informs before Michael can ask. More silence. Michael opens his mouth, closing it a moment and then starts again, “What if-”

“What are we talking about oh brothers of mine?” _Gabriel_.

Michael shuts up quickly, turning to the honey haired boy with a tired smile, “Nothing Gabe. Don’t worry. You, though, need to head to bed soon” he scolds, shoving papers under the coffee table as Gabriel rolls his eyes. “If you’re wondering, Castiel made a friend” Gabriel peeks over Michael’s shoulder eyeing a thing of chocolates on the table, furrowing his brows as if feeling betrayed and scurries over to them, “Wait he did? _How_? I mean who?” He feels guilty for being skeptic but he knows Castiel has zero social skills and didn’t seem all to excited about talking with the others in the first place.

“Well I mean he’s my friend so by default… but he seems to really taken to our Cassie. You’ve met him a couple’a times. Dean Winchester,” He explains, pausing to pop a chocolate in his mouth and rest his butt on the coffee table. Lucifer groans and rolls his eyes, “Out of an entire school of kids he picks _Dean Winchester_?” he recoils at Gabriel’s angry look and jumps to defend himself, “I have nothing against him he just… this is Castiel’s literal _first_ friend. Dean… his personality is too loud” He grumbles as Gabriel rolls his own eyes, “You’re just a mother hen and won't let anyone have any fun, you need to get laid. Both of you actually because jeez it’s hard living with two people that have sticks up their asses” Gabriel grumbles getting up and walking towards his room, “Castiel likes him too, so, I’m inviting him and his little brother over this weekend, _youcan’tsayno_ ” he ushers the last part out quickly and runs to his room.

The two brothers look at each other, letting out loud sighs, “Who are we to deny Castiel a friend?” Michael finally says. They can’t argue with that.

 

♢

****The one thing Castiel dislikes more than getting up before the sun is being surrounded by so many taller, filled out teenagers. He more than disliked it, he _loathed_ it; he had quickly dismissed Gabriel from being his guide after seeing the way his brother looked longingly at his group of friends and, as much as he hated it, he’d tried all he could to avoid Dean. By the time the end of the week came around Castiel had gotten the routine down, nearly running from each class to the other, skipping lunch for his much preferred spot in the library and generally just trying to blend in with the walls.

People didn’t talk to him, he wasn’t sure if he just had an unapproachable vibe in general or people simply thought he was a freak, but he wouldn’t be surprised if both were underlying factors; not that he cared that is, he much preferred it.

Though, more often than not, Castiel would find his eyes scanning the crowds for a leather jacket and spiked hair, usually finding him surrounded by happily chattering boys and girls. Like right now as he scurried to Psychology, turning the corner to see Dean with his arm slung around a blonde girl’s shoulder and laughing at a lanky boy across from him; Castiel tried to will away an unfamiliar feeling within his chest that resonated throughout his entire body, it was one that made him want to walk over and be the one he was flashing that magnificent smile to. Clutching his books tighter, he scans Dean as a whole; the way his tongue pokes against his teeth when he flashes that little smirk, or the way his legs bow out and make the way he walks entirely… _Dean_. Feeling a little glimmer of adoration as he sees the way Dean gives full attention to whomever is speaking and he just wishes in this moment he was speaking to _him_ , and _oh_

“Observing the earthlings freak?”

Castiel jerks his head to where the owner of voice is standing just a tad too close. Before him is a senior, _Crowley_ , his mind supplies, intel he’d picked up from overhearing his classmates. Crowley wasn’t someone you wanted to tangle with, he was mysterious and malicious, garnering a following of people who merely feared what he was capable of. He was staring at Castiel with what could only be described as an amused look, most likely had been  _watching_ him watch Dean.

Castiel doesn’t want to answer him so he huffs a breath and continues walking forward, stunted only when a hand pulls him back, “You disrespectful insect, were you raised in a barn?” he sounds angry but Castiel doesn’t focus on that, _no_ , just the way his skin burns at the contact, “Stop. Get off me. Don’t touch me” He realizes his voice is impossibly small and holds only desperate passiveness; he just hopes Crowley doesn’t pick up on this, that’s all he needs is this enigma knowing his weaknesses. “Why I ought to-”

“HEY!” Castiel and Crowley both whip around to see Dean heading towards them, pushing Crowley off, “Mess with him again, see what happens!” Dean actually _growls_ and Castiel finds himself captivated by the boy whose body seems to radiate anger; he’d noticed that before, that Dean tended to wear his feelings _literally_ on his sleeve. Crowley just throws a smug look at the Winchester, glares at Castiel and tells him to _watch his back_ and stalks away.

Castiel swallows hard as Dean turns to face him, anger dissipated and merely replaced with… _concern_? Why was Dean concerned about him? “You okay buddy?” he is getting close, checking him over in Castiel’s shock, which shocks Castiel’s even _more_ because he realizes he doesn’t mind Dean being this close to him. “T-Thanks Dean,” he finally breathes out, looking into his eyes, hoping he can convey what his words always seems to lack, “Of course, that guy is a douche.” And in a final act of surprise Dean slings his arm over Castiel’s shoulder, and, _oh my god_ , guides them to their next class. The smaller boy can feel his heart beat rapidly in his chest, but it’s not accompanied with that same icy feeling rather a warm, _apprehensive_ one.

With Dean touching him he feels his mind poke around, as if he _should_ be remembering something, but that something never comes, no, his mind is merely full of how heavenly Dean smells and how amazing he feels being the object of his attention in this moment. Even as they both enter the classroom and sit in their respective seats, the feeling reverberates within him and he can’t help but bask in it because any other time he’d be wallowing in self-loathing and horrid memories, so as Dean turns toward him, that famous smile quickly becoming Castiel’s favorite thing, and talks about nothing important, Castiel can still _feel_ the ghost touch of his fingertips that makes his skin vibrate with a certain feeling of being absolutely _alive_.

He vaguely picks up that Dean is chattering about things that they can do, hanging out, and spending time together; Castiel feels the haze of good feeling in his mind clear a bit as he tilts his head and just needs to know, “Why me Dean?” This seems to shut the boy up for a moment before he smiles again, “Because you’re different Cas.” the words are only slightly registered as a hand is placed tenderly on his own and suddenly he _feels_ the words that are spoken to him, _feels_ as though the brilliant light that makes up Dean Winchester shifts from his body into Castiel's own and somehow chips at the darkness inside of him, breaking through, trickling in and trying to penetrate the dark crevices that hold so much fear and loneliness. His warmth sending crackles of electricity throughout Castiel’s body, pumping through his veins and overpowering, _no_ , destroying the slivers of darkness it comes in contact with there.

Dean Winchester is every vibrant color Castiel had wished to be painted with in his young lifetime, he is the stagnant flame within a hurricane of tumultuous emotion. His light enters Castiel and carves out the dark, rotting pieces that had died so long ago, touching them and willing them back to life again. Dean clasps his hand tighter and Castiel gasps as everything that is Dean fills him up and creates a new place for him to hide away, gripping him tight and promising to do everything in it's power to revive everything within Castiel that had collapsed, withered and used. 

It doesn't give him false hope as various therapists had, does not promise him instantaneous, life altering moments, but rather safety. A carved cocoon that Castiel can enclose himself in, which, the thought of, wrapped in the light that is Dean, sends thrums of happiness through his body. 

Castiel knows it isn’t going to be easy to shed the cocoon his father had created around him, his life isn’t going to instantly change, but what he does know is that he isn’t alone, and perhaps, somewhere within the brilliance that is Dean Winchester, he may be able to find that one vital piece of himself he’d been searching for his whole life. And, perhaps, _someday_ he could be free of the shackles his father had beaten and bound to him. _Someday_.

 

* * *

 

_He'd wanted to go with his brothers so badly, simply to the grocery store, but his father reiterated even as Castiel sobbed into his shoulder, 'you can't go out there angel, people will want to take you away. Is that what you want? To be taken to a strangers house?' Castiel shook his head hard enough to make himself dizzy, he definitely didn't want that. But he didn't understand, why would they take him but not his brothers? Castiel still felt sadness in him, the heaviness in his chest, but then again he felt that all the time, he wanted that feeling to go away, so he tried the only way he knew how, "Hold me daddy" he cried gently as he's enveloped in his father's unforgiving arms, he presses his cheek against his father's chest and hopes that, perhaps, they could just sit like this so he doesn't feel so alone, that he doesn't have to mirror his father's touches or sit stiff as he explores his body. Castiel should know that he's never that lucky, that this is what he is meant for; shoving his face into the cloth of his father's shirt he hiccups as a large hand holds his neck and the other reaches down inside his jeans and gropes around. He feels the rapid rise and fall of his father's chest and hoped it's over soon, but he cried out in surprise as his father pulled him back, looking at him with a weird, tired look. 'I wanna show you something new angel, do you want me to show you? It's a secret, a special secret' Castiel and all of his seven year old curiosity get the better of him and he nodded his head slowly, wiping the tears from his puffed cheeks. His father sat on the edge of the bed, instructing Castiel to stand in front of him as he unzipped his pants and pulled them down, quickly with his briefs too. He sat there with his large erection curling out, and Castiel looked up to him confused, he'd seen his father naked before, when they did special touches, but he's not sure what his father is meaning for this time. 'Get on your knees Castiel' his voice is breathy and strange, Castiel cocked his head but does as he's told, 'Dad? What are we doing?' he wondered aloud, but this only seemed to make his father more...strange, as he watched the erection twitch. 'I told you. Something special okay? But you have to do what I say or it won't be special and I will be sad, do you want that Castiel?' Castiel shook his head hard because he knows his father tries really hard to make him happy and get healthy, he doesn't want his father to be sad. He motioned for Castiel to move closer, so he scoots on his knees until he's almost touching the throbbing member, 'Now I want you to put this in your mouth okay' he motioned towards his cock when Castiel looked absolutely flabbergasted, 'b-but, Daddy that's how we-' his father slapped his face hard enough to shut him up and cause tears to spring in his eyes, 'what did I say Castiel? Do you want me to be mad? Because I'm getting mad' the boy definitely didn't want his father to be angry so he shut up right quick and moved toward his cock, slowly pulling the head of it into his mouth, gasping and pulling back when he feels how strange it is; he wanted to cry, he does not want to do this but he also doesn't want his father to be angry or sad. His father seemed to lighten up a bit, chuckling at his anxiety, 'it's okay. It's fun. Open your mouth' Castiel does as he's told, letting his father move his head closer as well, with only a moment hesitation he placed a hand around his prick and then guided it to the small mouth in front of him, groaning as he feels it enter the wet expanse. Castiel watched his father who seemed...in pain? He isn't sure when he hears the groan, just focused on not moving away as he feels his father's cock being pushed further in his mouth. He isn't able to fit much before Castiel is spluttering and gagging around it, unintentionally closing his mouth, only to be jerked violently by his hair, 'No. Teeth. I will not tell you again.' Castiel nodded, his eyes wide with fear as he tried to keep his gagging at bay. He listened to his father's instructions, closing his mouth around it, no teeth, and carefully begins sucking on it. It's weird and painful, mostly his hair is being pulled and his throat is burning while tears make their way down his cheeks. His father mostly guides his head, back and forth, until he's making loud noises, shouting almost, until Castiel feel's the prick being shoved deep into his throat, making him desperately trying to take in oxygen through his nostrils; through his panic his father seized up and moved more rapidly until suddenly he grunted disgustingly and expels some kind of fluid down his throat, Castiel wished to spit it out, unable to do much of anything but convulsively move his throat to keep from choking. Castiel felt something deep within him ice over, almost like it died right there in his gut, and he felt the sadness like a tenfold. He doesn't want to do this his whole life, doesn't want to take his father in this way and constantly feel the heaviness in his chest. When his father pulled out he was frozen in his spot, mind in a muddled haze of horror; this is his life. Even as his father put him on the bed and leaves to go clean himself Castiel felt the tug of invisible ropes around his entire being. Squeezing, squeezing until he felt a breaking inside of him and suddenly his mind is blank, and he lay on the bed completely empty. He numbly registered that if he could stay like this, maybe the rest of his life could be a little more bearable. Yes. He wouldn't mind being numb forever._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yey. I always see Dean as a protector, sue me. But do not be fooled, Castiel isn't suddenly cured or free from his past, I think he just feels hopeful for the first time in his life. Fluff and angst ensue. Chapter song namesake, it reminds me off Destiel: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QB3pxBDZvf4


	3. What Lies Beneath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After feeling such a pull to Dean Winchester and the light that is he, Castiel finds himself craving more of Dean and his attention. But he also feels turmoil over his new friend. He sees Dean as pure and innocent, a savior.
> 
> But Castiel soon finds out Dean may not be as holy as he thinks him to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still can't believe how awesome you guys are! Thank you so much for reading! If you've noticed this story is very Castiel in his head based. He thinks a lot, which is how it is when someone experiences trauma; you find yourself in your head a lot. So if that bothers you guys I do apologize. I know it seems Dean and Castiel don't have a lot of interactions but that will change as we move on. We'll see more Dean, more PROTECTIVE DEAN YEY. 
> 
> Do also keep in mind, Castiel seems very naive and immature at times (thinking Dean is all good and holy) but that's because he was isolated his entire life and he's not very caught up with times and normality of teenagers. He's just very hopeful for the first time in his life. So please keep that in mind before you call him 'childish'. 
> 
> ITALICS contain GRAPHIC ABUSE. Other than that please do enjoy. NO beta so mistakes are mine.

* * *

 

 

_‘_ _You are the most beautiful Castiel. Out of all of your brothers. Out of everyone. You are the prettiest angel ever, do you know that?’ Castiel beamed and blushed from the compliment, his father was always telling him things like that, but Castiel thought his brothers were also very beautiful. Castiel stood in place, shivering in his nakedness as his father held the camera and showered him with compliments. A hand weaved itself through his hair, scratching at his scalp soothingly, ‘you have your mother’s hair’ his father’s eyes were dreamy as fingers combed the raven locks and then slid down his temples, snapping another picture before running the pad of his thumb across Castiel’s eyelids, ‘the most precious blue eyes. They look like they hold the ocean’ another blush spread across Castiel’s face as he smiled, he liked the attention his father gave him, it wasn’t like he could get it elsewhere, he wasn’t allowed to leave the house, so he groveled in it, craved his father’s affection; to be good enough for him. He would do whatever he could to be able to bask in the attention. Calloused fingers trailed down past his nose to swipe over his lips gently, poking inside to touch his tongue, his voice laced with pride ‘the softest lips ever. Such a pretty little mouth, good for taking daddy’ another snap of the camera, capturing his kiss-swollen lips. Trailing down his chin, fingers laced around his neck carefully and come together to travel down his chest, teasing at his nipples, pinching and rolling them between his fingers before massaging at his small stomach, ‘so skinny and pretty for me baby, just for me’ his father leaned back a tad to get a picture of his perked nipples and pale torso. The flash made Castiel squint a tad, making a small noise as the hand returned and wrapped around his cock, inspecting it before more pictures were taken, ‘such soft skin, not even any hair yet angel-’ he stopped talking to take in the small gasp as he trailed a finger underneath Castiel’s small prick, across his perineum and to the tight muscles of his hole, ‘So good just for me.’ Castiel wiggled at the uncomfortable sensation, whining out as to stop his father who soon stepped back, held the camera up and took a full photo, continuing with other captures as well. After a moment his father set the camera down and got equally as naked, Castiel’s five year old eyes squinted in confusion. ‘Castiel I want you to touch me here’ he pointed to his cock and looked to the confused boy, ‘like this’ he demonstrated on Castiel once again, cupping his fingers around his small genitals, stroking his cock instructionally. His father released him after a moment and then pointed to himself, ‘Show me what you learned.’ Castiel swallowed his fear and reached out, taking his much larger father in his hand, and looked up with a terrified squeak as he was coaxed on. For a moment he just held it, not sure what to do until his father instructed him again. Castiel adjusted his hand and used it to stroke and touch the man as he’d been told to; fear was there inside of his chest, worried that he was hurting his father as grunts and moans filled the room; but he was urged to continue, a larger hand covering his own after a moment so they're both pumping the hard thing in unison until his father stilled, telling him not to stop before letting out a loud groan as a substance spurted over Castiel’s chest suddenly. The young boy looked down at the thick, white liquid, wondering why that had never come out of him, looking back up to his father, whom panted and pushed his hand off. More photos were taken of his jizz covered body before he was allowed to wipe off with an old shirt and then gathered in his father’s arms. ‘My pretty angel. So beautiful. So beautiful.’_

 

* * *

 

Castiel frightens himself. He knows somewhere in his head something, _a lot_ of somethings, are broken, things that truly cannot be repaired, yet even with that knowledge he still lets himself waver across the line of insanity once in a while. Dean being most of those ‘one in a whiles’.

Now that he and Dean had established their new friendship, Castiel found himself ravenously drinking up his attention and withering with parchment when he is gone. Castiel finds himself coveting for Dean’s approval at every turn, cautious and alert with his emotions and reactions. He knows deep in his subconscious it is not right, not _normal_ to feel such intense longings for petty things like attention, but he can’t help it, so he allows the reasonable part of his brain to shut off and let the part that longs for more of Dean’s light to come through.

That is why, now, Castiel finds himself compulsively cleaning up his room, placing things in alphabetical order and by height, finishing and moving on to the kitchen and finally the living room, just waiting for Dean’s arrival. Gabriel had insisted on Dean and Sam coming over to hang out since it would be a long weekend; Castiel felt his hands shake with unwarranted apprehension and deep seeded desire. He wished Dean would hold him, just _hold him_ ; he craved for that innocent skin to skin contact. He didn’t want to feel lonely any more. No longer wanted to _feel_ the phantom hands that probed him, even worse, the slight ache for his _father_ to hold him close and give him his utmost attention, he didn’t want to _feel_ it.

If Dean could give that to him, that attention he so desired for, then perhaps, he could forget his father, erase the ever lingering scent of whiskey and pine, shed more _light_ on the places in Castiel that had never seen it, make him whole. It was a lot to ask for a person he’d just met, Castiel knew this in the back of his mind, knew Dean would take one look inside Castiel and go running for the hills, but the other side of him, the hopeful side, remembers the way Dean had clutched his hand, threw his energy straight into the broken boy and actually _ignited_ the hopefulness.

Castiel sits at the counter listening as his mind roars back and forth; Dean hadn’t seemed to mind how Castiel had followed him around as a lost puppy would, he seemed to encourage it. He didn’t mind Castiel being content with just him speaking and not saying a word back. _Dean is different_ , he reminds himself. Dean is full of color and luminescence. Dean is light _incarnate_. Dean sees something inside Castiel worth fighting for; worth coming to school every day and giving him a warm smile, worth walking him to each of his classes and warning Crowley away. Dean saw _worth_ where Castiel saw _worthlessness_.

Dean is _good_. When Dean touches things they turn white and pure, Castiel is sure of it. That is why the touch of his hand still resonates within Castiel, he’d allowed purity to run through his veins; if Castiel could just have more of Dean then perhaps he could be wiped clean. _Tabula Rasa_. Castiel smiles inside of himself, Dean is here to save him.

He pushes any other doubts he may have about Dean and his astounding light away, totally out of his mind, because he’s sure Dean is nothing but virtuous; he would never try to hurt Castiel, only attempt to wipe away the blackness his father’s fingers had smudged across his soul.

He lets his mind wander to other things, like the fact that Dean and Sam will be coming to stay the night, a _sleepover_ , Gabriel had called it. Castiel had never seen anyone come over to their house, but, perhaps if anyone had, he would not have known since he hadn't been allowed to leave him and his father’s room. He began to fret over proper sleepover etiquette. What was he supposed to act like? What should he speak about?

Castiel wondered if Dean, Sam and Gabriel would talk about sex as he’d heard them doing so once; he’d been confused, wondering why people would _choose_ to speak about the acts they performed, but quickly realized it is a normal thing among his high school peers to speak of sex as if it were a common act; Castiel had always been under the impression those were things you kept hush-hush, didn’t talk about.

_‘You can’t tell anybody about the angel, okay? People will be very angry and take you away if you do’_

****  


The youngest Novak feels a small trickle of trepidation slither into his lungs, wondering if it will be required that he, _too_ , speaks about sexual acts he’s performed; he’d seen in movies how the teenagers typically all swapped stories, meaning it would be rude for him not to speak about the customary things one would during such events. The thought of doing so sent him into a panic, he gripped the edge of the table till his knuckles whitened, trying to keep himself steady, taking deep, rehabilitating breaths that did nothing to soothe his panic.

He did not want to _talk_ about those times, his therapists had already tried to get him to enough, but to speak to Dean about such abhorred acts he’d performed… _no_ , he could not possibly let Dean see the real side of him. Then he would know. He would _know_ why Castiel craved his attention, or why he would walk into the bathroom at times and find Castiel in full blown panic mode. He would know and he would be absolutely disgusted with Castiel, the _real_ Castiel.

_‘Don’t ever be ashamed of yourself baby boy. You’re so beautiful’_

****  


Castiel squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, yes, god _yes_ , there were a millions reasons Castiel should be ashamed of himself, he and his tainted skin. Castiel breathes out quickly, willing himself to not let his father ruin this new experience for him. But he can’t help but turn to face the small mirror hanging on the wall, blinking his twilight eyes, brushing his black tousled hair back.

 _Beautiful_. Does Dean think is? He wouldn’t mind if Dean thought he was beautiful. Maybe then he might even believe it. _Impossible_ , he shakes his head, he wasn’t beautiful. He could never be beautiful. Not with his father's eyes and his mother's hair.  _No. Stop._ He presses his fists into his eyes, trying to keep his thoughts from again straying.

 _But_ , he loathe they continue, _don’t you want to be beautiful? Like your father always said?_ Castiel nods slightly, but how could he be? How could he be beautiful if he hated every inch of himself. Hated himself more than anyone could possibly imagine. Nothing about him was beautiful, not his jutted hipbones that tingled with past kisses, or his sides that had once been ever painted with finger bruises. Not his legs that had been easily maneuvered to someone’s liking, or his arms that had been pinned down the first time he’d tried to scream and fight back. He was never beautiful. So why then, had _he_ been chosen? He is too deep in his thoughts now, too engrossed in visions of the past.

_‘Your skin is so pale angel, it brings out those pretty little eyes’_

__

_‘Say thank you Castiel, you should appreciate the things I do to you. They’re very special’_

__

_‘You’re so gorgeous angel. Come on now, put it in your mouth’_

__

_‘My precious, little boy’_

“Why was I the prettiest?” Castiel’s head is muddled and heavy, thick like syrup and he knows his eyes are glazed over in indifference as the words seem to be spoken by someone else. He wasn’t speaking to anyone in particular, or, perhaps he was; perhaps he hoped his father would come and explain, make something, _anything_ , right about the situation. But that would never happen and he was left with startling his brother Lucifer, whom he hadn’t even realized had been in the kitchen, dropping his knife down on a ceramic plate with a loud _thunk_. Silence follows for a few moments before Lucifer’s voice wafts in, sounding almost hesitant, “Cassie?” Castiel has no desire to look up, just continues blankly staring into the wooden table as if it held all the answers to the universe.

His older brother approaches him slowly, like he’s a spooked animal waiting to bite its own leg off and scamper away, stopping steps in front of him before kneeling down to seem less intimidating, taking in his little brothers foggy eyes. “Castiel? Are you okay? What’s wrong?” He speaks slowly, as if he’s talking to a young child, waiting patiently for a reply as Castiel forgets how to use his voice. 

  
_‘Don’t tell your brothers Castiel. You’re the most beautiful. Out of them all’_

 __ **  
**Why? Why was he? What was it that made him so different from all of his brothers? Why him? Why _not_ his brothers? He found himself juggling anger and sadness at the same time. **  
**

“Cassie” Lucifer reaches out and touches Castiel’s shoulder, trying to shake him from his stupor, but the contact only makes Castiel jump, knocking his chair over and scrambling back, “D-Don’t touch me! I don’t want you to touch me! I don’t want _any_ of you to touch me!” He felt the words spill from his mouth, as he hesitantly brings his hands up to tug at tufts of his hair, because _he’d just been fine minutes ago_ , Dean was coming, he was supposed to be happy, but the only thing he could feel was anger.

 _Surely_ he’d been a good kid, _surely_ he hadn’t deserved everything that’d happened to him, _right_? But then again, why would it of happened if there wasn’t something truly wrong with him? Maybe he is sick, not sick like father had told him, feeding him pills to make him vomit and feel dizzy, but sick inside his head, ill with the idea that he could be anything but used. Perhaps he was sick enough to believe Dean could help him, to believe his brilliant light would even want to go near someone as grotesque as himself. Sick enough to believe he could be free.

His brother is speaking frantically to him but his head is too filled up with the sound of his father because _god_ , Castiel thinks, _he was right. About everything._

_‘No one is going to love you like I do. No one is going to touch you like I do. No one is going to understand you, like me Castiel. So get your ass on that damn bed’_

 

 __ **  
**“Stop! Stop! _Stop_!” He shouts. He wants it to. So _badly_. In this moment he just wishes for everything to freeze so he can get his head in order. Except, that’ll never happen because his head is already too out of whack to ever be in order, he is too scarred, too damaged to become something even halfway sane. He is mentally shackled, a prisoner in his own head, at times he wasn’t sure what was real and what wasn’t, though, Lucifer grabbing his arms and shaking him surely is. “Castiel, I’m sorry, please I need you to calm down okay, I’m sorry to touch you, lets go lay down, how ‘bout it?” He's desperately trying to reason, but Castiel can’t find it within himself to feel bad about scaring his brother because _why had father chosen me? WHY ME?_ **  
**

Tears cascade down his face, not of his own accord though, because everything in his body feels as if it’s lost feeling, his face, his arms, his legs, they’re all limp with anger and pain. “ _I_ don’t want to be the prettiest Lucifer! I don’t wanna be!” he begs, as if saying all this will take it all back, as if he could possibly make the past right. Ha. That would be the day. Lucifer looks positively green in the face, eyes wide with fear, it makes Castiel want to laugh because, what in the _world_ did he have to fear? So he does, he forces out a sarcastic chuckle taking a particularly large tug of his hair, jerking his head to the side. _Stop. Stop. Stop. Be normal_. Normal. He laughs again, it’s not happy, not laced with sarcasm, but forced and desperate, he wishes to laugh for real. Soon the sounds of his fake laughter die, choked out by the sound of his sobs as his knees tremble and he nearly collapses to the floor if not for his quick, reflexive brother that keeps him upright, reminding him too much of a broken five year old, learning for the first time he’s ‘sick’ and that’s why he’s not allowed to go play with his brothers, crying as he collapsed in his father's arms that promised to provide comfort and a cure.

_‘I’ll make you all better, okay Cassie? You have to do what I say though. Okay?’_

****  


“Let’s lay you down okay?” Castiel looks up at his father's, _no_ , Lucifer’s face and nods, tears spilling over his lips and down his neck.

 

“Okay.”

♢

Castiel calms down a couple hours later, crawling out from under his desk, breathing in deeply, now back in the real world. Dean will be coming in fifteen minutes. A spark of excitement fills Castiel has he hurriedly changes from his night clothes to a comfortable hoodie and sweat pants, running to his bathroom to work at his hair, no avail, it is untamable. He grabs his iPod and shoves the earbuds in as to keep his mind from straying before Dean can get here, he couldn’t handle having a meltdown with him watching. He switches it on and turns it up so the music is bubbling up and spilling out of the bud, able to be heard by anyone who is close, as he exits his room.

_We gather here to sing for you, the words you've written. Each bloodshot beauty still rings true, from violent crashes_

****  


He gently moves his head to the music, listening to each word, each pronunciation, each syllable, only focusing on that, not allowing himself to think of anything else. He moves swiftly to the living room, passing Gabriel, not hearing his call of “You’re going to bust your damn ears out with that screaming shit.” He doesn’t glance up from the floor to acknowledge Michael as he wanders around the living space.

_Gently rest your weary head, what you live for now is dead_

****  


Going boneless and falling into the armchair, lacing his legs across and stretching like a cat. _Dean_. Castiel imagines him driving in his beloved car, the one he calls baby. He wonders if Dean is as excited as he is to see each other, perhaps Dean feels apprehensive too?

_Goodnight._

Castiel bristles in what feels like, to him, happiness with the thought of Dean and his light coming into their home, allowing his soul to smother the memories, no longer heavy with their father.

_Goodbye._

He visualizes the galaxies that make up Dean’s bones pouring out, the constellations that pump through his veins making his skin glow. Crack him open, Castiel thinks, and you’d see the universe. Dean is everything good. Dean holds the essence of life in his breath, shakes the dust of stars from his flesh.

_A soul surrender._

****  


Dean is an anomaly that Castiel wouldn’t mind spending years trying to figure out. Dean is- the doorbell rings, he can hear it over his headphones even, _Dean is here!_ Castiel quickly bounces up, walking behind Gabriel, whom is hurrying to answer the door.

_This love will set you free from thoughts of yesterday_

****  


Gabriel throws a strange smile to Castiel, who hasn’t even taken his headphones out in his excitement; Castiel wonders vaguely if Gabriel doesn’t see what he sees in Dean, but he has no time to dwell on it as the door opens and reveals the two Winchesters. Castiel zeros in on only one though, peering over to see those emerald gems, those irises that hold the expanse of valleys and the immeasurable height of mountains. He stares for a moment before those gems fall on his own eyes. Castiel swallows hard, mesmerized, before ripping the headphones out of his ears as he sees Dean’s lips moving but not understanding, throwing his iPod on the table, still blaring his music as he waves gently, “Hello, Dean” They shuffle back to let the boys in, slinging their bags aside, “Hey Cas! Long time no see!” he throws his arm around Castiel, who tilts his head, “No it hasn’t, it’s barely been twenty four hours Dean?” The elder Winchester just laughs, pats his back and shakes his head, “I was just joking with you.” Castiel finds his lips curling into a small smile, snatching his player and going to turn it off.

 

_Now death has come to claim your Beautiful Remains._

 

♢

 **  
**  
They spent most of the day playing video games, eating and even throwing a football around outside. It was getting late as they all gathered together in the living room to play the station and talk. Castiel keeps his legs pulled to his chest, head on his knees, watching Dean as he talks, speaking about something entirely insignificant that Castiel can’t help but be captivated by. Castiel felt good, they had watched movies and ate junk food and nothing had been out of line, they hadn’t talked about anything uncomfortable either. It was the best time Castiel thinks he’s ever had, the best day ever.

That _is_ until Gabriel opens his big mouth. Castiel should have known it would be Gabriel who would drop the ball. He begins telling a story about some boy that he’d been dared to kiss and how they both actually enjoyed it, he says this while looking over at Sam with waggling eyebrows, there’s a collective groan and Castiel curls tighter to himself in defense.

“So Dean-o, our very own self proclaimed Mr. Bisexual, what about you? Any hookups lately?” He asks throwing a piece of popcorn at Sam who is playfully shoving him over. They’d abandoned the PlayStation all together, lounging on the couch and floor. 

Castiel and Dean had actually been engrossed in a nice conversation before Gabriel had gone and ruined it. Typical Gabe. “Of course I have Gabe, you know me, a regular satyriasis in the making,” he rolls his eyes as Castiel exhales deeply, perhaps they'd avoided the subject. “No seriously Dean, you and Benny though?” Gabriel wonders out loud, ripping the snickers bar from Sam's hand and looking pointedly at him. “Shit dude. Nothing is on between us, I just heard he had a big dick and well _yeah_ ” he shrugs with a sly smile as Sam whines how gross that is and will have to bleach his mind; Castiel, on the other hand, feels his breath hitch because Dean Winchester, the one who held the universe in his heart, should not be speaking like _that_.

But he keeps talking about it, one after another, women and men that he’s been with, until Castiel feels like he can’t take it any longer; he'd been under the impression such acts were sacred, not carelessly thrown to whomever. He watches with wide eyes as Dean speaks like he’s talking about the weather. Dean is _pure_ , Dean is _innocent_ , Castiel tries to remind himself in his horror. He shouldn’t be saying things like...like _that_. “Castiel!” He jerks his head up to see Lucifer standing in the doorway, smiling as he tilts his head, “Meds.” For the first time Castiel feels his cheeks redden as he shamefully walks forward; he’d never been embarrassed at his need for medication until now, with the Winchesters here, he felt more self-conscious. He tries to shake what Dean had been saying from his head as he walks toward the kitchen.

He automatically clutches the glass of water as one pill is set in his hand. **Zyprexa. 10mg.** He places it on the back of his tongue and swallows it down. Two more pills are set. **Fluoxetine. 40mg.** Those are hurriedly downed. He finishes the glass of water and thanks Lucifer, “No problem bud. You doing okay with...everything?” He means having people over. Castiel nods automatically, fatigue filling his bones to the brim, doubt overflowing within his mind.

Dean had been so bright. _No_. Dean is bright. Dean cannot be at fault for past mistakes, Castiel nods, he cannot be angry at Dean. He feels a little better as he walks back to where everyone else is trying to figure out sleeping arrangements, “Well we have two air beds so Sam can sleep in my room and Dean can go to Cassie’s” There’s a collective nod. It seems to be settled.

Castiel can feel his heart claw its way up his throat, Dean would have to stay in _his_ room. The room that used to be him and his father’s. The room that had never held another person, even Castiel’s brother’s didn’t like being in there. The thought of Dean, pellucid  _Dean_ , being in a place that held such tainted memories, such toxic air, it was disheartening. He could push the earlier comments from Dean aside, he was still the all encompassing light that Castiel knew he was, nothing, he thinks, could change that. Regardless, he is following the boys, watching Gabriel throw an air mattress on the floor of his room, while Dean throws his bag down on it, his mind a constant mantra of  _they're standing in my room, get them out of my room._

Castiel tries to keep his calm, though it's hard, even with the pills attempting to assuage him. Dean turns to Castiel and smiles, “Guess we’re roommates for tonight!” Castiel can’t help but quirk a bit of a smile, even in his apprehension because _Dean’s smile is what dreams are made of_. Castiel bunches the sleeves of his hoodie around his hands and squeezes, nodding back at him. They all spend a bit more time eating before retiring to their respective rooms, Dean with a warning of, if _you do anything with my little brother Gabe I will personally kill you._ Castiel wonders, if he were _normal_ , would Gabriel make a joke along the same lines back, but he knows Gabriel would never, that he is too scared of sending Castiel off at such implications, even if they’re jokingly.

Castiel sits down on the edge of his bed, watching as Dean inspects CD’s on his desk. “Man, you have some strange music tastes” Dean chuckles sifting through the stack, “Thank...you?” Castiel isn’t sure if it's a compliment, Dean just smiles and sets them down, walking over to inspect the bookshelf. After he finishes searching through those he moseys around, nothing more to look at; Castiel had kept his room looking as bare as it had when his father had lived in it.

“You’re a mystery Castiel Novak” he speaks after a moment of silence, Castiel’s head shoots up, confused.

 

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Not at all.” Dean smiles and walks towards him, the bed dipping as he sits next to him.

 

“You just… you rarely speak, but you listen to me babble on about the stupidest shit. And you look at me like I’m a good person or something.” He chuckles and scratches the back of his short, sandy hair. Castiel thinks he looks uncomfortable with relaying this information.

“You are a good person Dean.”

 

Castiel nods his head, because yes, that is true. He wishes he could tell Dean about what he sees inside of him. The golden bright of his soul that reaches out and makes Castiel feel safe. The cocoon he’d created for Castiel. “You’re like the stars. But more than that.”

“What do you mean?” Dean sounds curious and Castiel realizes he’d said that out loud, so for the thousandth time today he finds himself blushing and looking away. “N-nothing. Sorry...I’m sorry” He hopes Dean isn’t too worried or freaked out by him. 

“Cas. Stop. It’s okay, look at me” he does and he sees those green eyes looking straight into his own and then in a final act of surprise Dean leans forward, capturing Castiel’s lips, chastely kissing him. And, for a moment, Castiel is lost in the feeling of it, the way it feels absolutely _right_ and although he doesn’t kiss back he feels his head fog and body thrum with crackles of excited energy, that is until his entire world comes crashing down around him as a hand rests on his upper leg, stroking a moment, and suddenly Castiel is pushing Dean away, his eyes bulging in horror, and flashes of memories are bursting behind his eyes.

_‘Only I can touch you like this angel. Only I will make you feel this way’_

****  


“Castiel?” No. No. _No_! Castiel squeaks out in horror, scrambling back, off his bed and to the side of the room, throwing his hands out so Dean doesn’t come any closer. “I-I thought this is what you wanted...You followed me around and looked at me like…” Dean is trying to justify himself but all Castiel can hear is the gruff voice of his father. Dean is just like him. Dean doesn’t want Castiel the person, Dean wants Castiel the walking fuck toy. But, _but his light. H-he was so pure. I felt it. I felt him._ But the only thing Castiel feels are his insides ice over once again, his mind trying to recoil into the inner recesses of itself.

_‘So good baby. So good, just for me. Castiel, look at me. I said look at me Castiel’_

****  


“ _Castiel_!” He is shaking, his fists pressed into his eyes, because now his cocoon is rotting, now it makes him feel sour and used. Dean. _Dean_. The _stars_ , the _galaxies_ , the _light_ , what had it all been? What was Dean? An anguished yowl falls from his lips. Forever he is his father’s. Never to be unbound. Never to be released. _Never_.

Suddenly hands are grabbing his shoulders trying to bring him back to reality, Castiel cries because they just feel so right. _Why do they feel right?_ “Castiel, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have. I just thought it’s what you wanted. Please don’t cry. Please” Dean is pleading with him, Castiel hears fear in his voice, fear and remorse, he’s never heard that from anyone. He opens his teary, azure eyes and looks up to Dean, he looks so apologetic and guilty. _But_. So had his father, those first times it’d all happened. Castiel worries his bottom lip, turning his head away. It doesn't matter if Dean's hands feel right.

 

“Please Dean. Don’t touch me.”

 

* * *

 

_'Castiel. You can tell me if somethings happening okay? No one will be mad at you, we just want you safe' Michael looked really concerned and Castiel found himself saddened, Michael shouldn't look so sad. The littlest Novak shook his head, his father was only doing what he could to make Castiel better. Castiel was sick. Sick on the inside. And only his father knew how to help him. Michael looked like he didn't believe Castiel, like he's lying. 'Cassie. I need you to tell me. Is father...' he seemed to have a hard time talking or rather, getting the right word out, 'is he touching you? In private...areas?' Castiel furrowed his eyebrows, because his father had told him specifically to never talk about things they did, but before he can open his mouth his father stomped over and pulled Castiel up by his little arm, marching him away from Michael like he is some stranger. 'Castiel James Novak what did I say about leaving the room when I'm not here it is-' Michael cut him off, standing, nearly taller than father, looking like he wanted to come in between them. 'Dad. Don't yell at him, I brought him out. None of us get to see him, you keep him locked up in that room it isn't healthy' he glared hard and it scared Castiel, for him to threaten their authority like that. Their father was angry, Castiel could tell by his shaking arm that still clutched on his own, Castiel found himself wanting to cower away, his father could become quite unforgiving when angry. 'Michael. I know what's best for my child. He's sick and it's dangerous for him to be out in the open with all you and your germs. Do you want your little brother to die? Because he will if you keep disobeying and letting him run around.' Castiel's eyes widened in fear, trying to tug his father toward their room, he didn't want to die! 'Do you even feed him? Look at him he's too small, I don't understand what exactly your plan is here. No doctors? No Hospita-' Castiel cried out as his father backhanded Michael, straight across the face, blood trickled down his lip ominously. Michael was stunned, holding his face and narrowing his eyes as father spoke, 'Shut your mouth boy. I do what’s right for him. So you, mind your own business' he turned on his heel, pulling Castiel along. Castiel felt tears fall down his face because he hated when his father was angry and rough with him. It left him hurting for days. Castiel was flung on the bed, he scampered back, chewing on his shirt collar in apprehension before he decided to speak up, 'daddy?' his voice was impossibly small but it made his father stop and look toward him, a sick crawl of a smile spread his lips, 'take your clothes off Castiel. Quickly' Castiel knew not to disobey, stripped as fast as he could and threw them aside, hugging his knobby knees to his chest, waiting. His father was in the bathroom, rustling around with something, walking out with a small tube in his hand. 'Now I have to inspect you, since you decided it would be such a good idea going out with Michael and contaminating yourself' he spit his words out like venom, leaving Castiel to tremble with shame, 'I'm sorry daddy...please...d-don't be mad at me' he hiccupped. His father couldn't be mad at him, he was all he had. 'You're just going to have to be extra good today and let daddy inspect you thoroughly, understand?' he asked in a challenging way, Castiel nodded hard, happy for a way to make his father proud of him, 'I will be go-good! I promise!' his father looked pleased, reached over to the bed and pulled Castiel's knees down, 'Now I need you to come over here and lay on my lap, on your tummy' he sat on the edge of the bed and waited for Castiel to scramble on his lap, laying across his legs, pressing his face into the sheets. His father shifted to set the tube down a moment, sighing dramatically, 'I wish I didn't have to do this. But I have to make sure you didn't catch anything else.' This made Castiel squeak in fear, what could he possibly be doing? He felt hands rub his back soothingly as more instructions are spoken to him, 'now bring your knees up' he did as he was told when he saw the angry glint in his father’s eyes, holding himself up across his father’s lap, his bottom raised and head pushed further into the sheets._

_Castiel felt fear burn deep in his throat as hands trailed down and caressed his bottom, the other hand pawed through his sweaty hair before both being removed altogether, the sound of uncapping filling the room. His father squirted the substance on his fingers, rubbing it a bit and then hesitantly held them over Castiel's bottom, then slowly coming down to slick it up as well, Castiel felt the cool, wetness drug from his perineum and up to his sensitive hole, yelping out and bucking his hips to get away from the wrong sensation, but his father held him in place, his a hand on the back of his neck tight, 'Now. Castiel. What the fuck did I say? Do. Not. Move' his voice was laced with anger and Castiel felt a sob rip from his throat as he nodded obediently, biting his lip as the fingers started again, swiping around and coating him. He began to get used to the feeling before the tip of a finger tried to dip past the muscle, his body quickly igniting with fear, no, no, no. He picked his head up and looked around frightfully, 'Daddy please, don't, I-I don't want-' he's hushed by his father squeezing his neck painfully, 'Shush Castiel. I am making sure you're healthy. So shut up'. He was angry at Michael. He was angry and taking it out on Castiel. That's what his father did, projected his emotions onto the boy. He doesn't hesitate any longer, worming his finger in to the knuckle, not stilling at the cries. He moved around immediately, slicking up within him, free hand pet Castiel's quivering spine and stilled his bucking hips. Just when Castiel thought he could not take anymore another finger was added, searing, burning pain shot up his spine and he cried out, begging. 'Hurt...dad...please' but he was unrelenting, pushing the two fingers deeper, scissoring them around, inspecting. 'Do you want something inside of you, killing you?' he asked angrily, looking to Castiel with stilled fingers, 'No!' he shook his head, tears flew off his face. 'Then let me do this' he didn't wait for a nod, just began moving his fingers up and down again, pressing at muscles and tight heat. Castiel felt his legs shaking hard, wanting to collapse in his father’s lap, but a hand came underneath and held his stomach up. 'There might be something angel. I have to add another finger' he said in a wavering voice, not listening to Castiel's shout of anguish. The third finger split Castiel open, or so it felt. Pain thrummed throughout his body, heightening as fingers fucked up and down inside of him. They got faster and angrier, punishing almost, making Castiel choke and bite his tongue hard, until they pushed into a strange coil of heat and he moaned out loud. It wasn't like the pain, but rather a strange sensation he felt he might want more of, but as the thought struck he quickly shook his head, eyes widening in horror. How could he want this? It felt like forever till the fingers slowed to barely moving and prodding around, until Castiel whimpered out, his body too exhausted to do anything else, as they are expelled, his hole closing around nothing. 'Castiel' his father's voice was what brought him to, full of an emotion Castiel couldn't decipher. What had he found inside his bottom? 'Daddy...?' he asked after a moment of silence, to which his father pressed small kisses to his lower back, rubbing his sore bottom. 'There's something inside of you Castiel' he stated matter of fact, waiting for Castiel to sob out, he didn't want to do this anymore, he wanted it all to be over. 'Don't worry baby, daddy will make it all better.'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Song used: Beautiful Remains by Black Veil Brides (The namesake). Part two of the sleepover coming soon! Let me know what you think! Destiel is coming, and Dean will have a larger part! Let me know what you think!


	4. Uncomfortably Numb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel finds himself on the borderline of reality and the past after he and Dean's encounter. Dean finds himself wanting to help Castiel, to find answers and help him start healing. But, is it ever that easy?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading friends! I'm so glad you all like it! I just want to say that while all the flashbacks seem scattered and with no pattern they are the way they are for a reason, it will all come together. 
> 
> This chapter begins and deals heavily with Castiel having a mental break of sort, his head is very scattered and such. It happens a lot with things like PTSD and Dissociation. So let me know if you guys like it. 
> 
> I decided to have Dean end this chapter so yey we get to see a bit into Dean's POV! That's always fun! But do keep in mind I have a hard time writing Dean, he's such a complex person, and I realize he's very OOC. So go light on that perhaps? ;n; But I think it's crucial to introduce him as character since he will be a big part of the story! 
> 
> As usual ITALICS are GRAPHIC depictions of CHILD SEXUAL ABUSE. No beta, mistakes will be made.

* * *

_Castiel would be turning twelve soon, but he have no energy to celebrate it even if he wanted to. No. He could feel how weak his bones were. How they protruded from every part of him, so emaciated that the flesh looked as if it would pop open and reveal ligaments. His father had not allowed him to eat and even if he had Castiel would not have felt he could, the pills being pumped into his system kept anything in his stomach from even staying. So he kept in he and his father’s bed till he would be requested for something. It was around nine o’clock that Castiel was laying in mind numbing silence, startled by the voice of his father who’d apparently been standing there for a while. His eyes were laced with mock concern as he slid into bed next to the young boy, gathering him up in his arms. ‘I’m doing my best with you angel, if you stay right here with me you’ll be okay’ he whispered close to Castiel’s ear, his voice sliding in like thick syrup, coating his brain. He doesn’t answer, just continues to stare at the wall, he doesn’t feel like his mouth can work. The last time he’d asked his father if he could go out with his brothers he’d gotten violent, describing to Castiel in detail what would happen to him if he left; that someone would take him and lock him up, make him bleed and that he wouldn’t come to save him. So Castiel stayed in his room, next to his father, safe. Things had changed though, he always felt like something was scraping, sliding from his fingers, just out of his reach, perhaps his sanity, being pulled further and further away. ‘Castiel. You’re in your head too much. Stop that’ His shoulder was jerked and he’d been turned to face his father, ‘sorry daddy.’ His eyes soften and he reached down, pulling Castiel’s shirt up, his body moving with it in pliancy. Hands massage their way up his small torso, lips reaching down and smattering kisses all over his sides and chest, teeth flicking over his nipples. ‘You always do all the work baby’ Castiel felt a faint tingle of apprehension tickle the back of his brain, turning his eyes to watch, to listen, ‘and you seem so sad’ he dropped his hands to clutch the elastic of Castiel’s pants. ‘Let daddy make you happy baby’ Castiel’s head dizzied, he’s not used to things changing. He doesn’t like things to change. He doesn’t want them to. What else did he have to control? ‘No, no, shhh, trust me angel, it’ll feel great. Now that you’re older. You deserve this.’ He was naked, this wasn’t new. His father was wrapping his hand around his cock, pumping like he usually had Castiel do to him. His father had touched him down there before, but his body had never responded like this; his little prick swelling at the ministrations. He remembered what his father had done the last time his member had gotten hard. Castiel panicked, getting up on his elbows and shaking his head, ‘No, daddy please-’ he was hushed by lips on his, tongue assaulting his throat, ‘All work and no play makes Castiel a sad boy,’ His father smirked and moved down, poking his tongue out to run his tongue across the head of Castiel’s penis, stopping only when Castiel fell back, a moan spilled from his lips; his tongue continued after that, lapping all the way up his shaft. Castiel felt heat rise all over his body, coiling deep in his stomach, making his head spin and there was a niggle feeling in his brain, a thrumming of pleasure. But he could, too, feel the fear that seeded too, while he was still able to form his own thoughts; if he enjoyed this, he’d be just like his father. ‘Wait-I don’t-please’ Castiel was unable to form a coherent sentence as his father took him in his mouth fully, the tunnel of wetness agitating his twitching prick more, “Please” he grunted out the word out, unsure of the meaning, to continue? To stop? His father moved quickly, running his tongue across his shaft, taking the small child easily, the grunts and moans coaxed him faster. “Dad…” Castiel meant it as a plead, but it merely sounded like a desperate whine. Castiel quickly felt himself coming undone, his legs shaking beside his father’s head, breath coming out in short bursts and stomach heating up more and more. He could feel it tightening his dick, like he was going to go to the bathroom, he threw his head back, too clouded to feel the disgust that lay dormant in him, the suctioning motion feeling as if it’s pulling something straight out of him. He needed to warn his father, he needed a bathroom and quickly, ‘D-dad! I-I’m gonna pee!’ He tried to pull away, but his father held his hips down, going harder until Castiel yelped out and felt the coiled heat unfurl straight into his father’s mouth. His body shook with the foreignness of the feeling; thick and sticky, shooting straight out of him. He threw an arm over his eyes, panting rough, limbs tired with the force of his trembling. His body vibrated with energy, crackling throughout his skin, blood rushing back and forth, back and forth. ‘Didn’t that feel_ so _good baby?’ A smirk, a knowing glint. His father kissed his lips, salty, sticky...him. Castiel pushed the wonderful feeling from his brain, eyes widened with horror, curling on his side. He’d enjoyed it. Just like his father. It had felt good. ‘No’ Castiel whispered, wrapping his arms around his stomach and shaking his head. He could never allow himself to be with somebody after this, could never allow someone to get close, unless he wanted to hurt them in such a way. He was a horrible person. He was just like his father._

 

* * *

 

Castiel remembers the first time he’d ever gotten food poisoning. Of course he’d been sick millions of times before that with his father’s false illnesses, but he’d never truly been _sick_ until then. Michael had just taken over being their guardian, he was twenty, he was scared, and he _sucked_ at cooking. The food hadn’t been done enough and Castiel’s stomach had decided to reject it immediately.

He doesn’t even remember what kind of food it was, just that it felt heavy in his stomach. Thick and rotted. He’d moaned and groaned, curling up on the floor, much to brother’s chagrin, until he felt it push back up the way it’d entered. He had never been _so_ relieved to puke in his entire life.

Nonetheless, it was the _feeling_ he ultimately recalls, because that’s exactly how he felt now. Lying in his bed with Dean on the floor beside him, but it was Dean’s _actions_ , Dean’s _words_ , all sitting thick and rotted in his stomach. Castiel wants nothing more than to purge them right then and there. Dean was supposed to be good. Dean _was_ good.

Castiel could feel Dean’s lips on his own, but then they were his father’s, chapped and heavy. He replays the phantom touch of Dean’s harmless fingers over and over until his face morphed into something more recognizable. _Father._ Castiel shifts under his sheets, peering down at the sleeping face of Dean until his features became blurred and mixed together.

 

He is sixteen. _No_ he is five years old.

 

Castiel can’t remember any more.  _Why is father on the floor?_ Castiel is baffled. _When had Dean gotten here?_

All of his thoughts and memories smudge together and crash around in his head, mashing up and remixing. First it was Dean then it was his father. What was real?

Castiel quickly stands up, stumbling to the bathroom, brushing his teeth two times. Padding quietly back out, he perches on his bed for only moments before he returns to the bathroom and brushes his teeth once again; he spits up blood the fifth time.

He ducks his head away from the mirror as he washes his hands, the water steams and blisters his palms, but he keeps rubbing them. Back and forth. Back and forth.

 

_‘You should always clean your hands like this Castiel. Five rubs’_

 

The next time Castiel finds himself in the bathroom he can’t avoid the mirror, looking deep into his own eyes, scared of who he is staring at because _surely that isn’t me?_ He can see stubble growing on his chin, as he frantically reaches for a razor, smothering his face with cream and making sure he can’t see one patch.

 

_‘We need to get all this nasty hair off that pretty little body Castiel. I don’t like it.’_

 

He hurriedly sets the stick down, dabbing at a cut on his face, he wonders if his father will want him to shave his cock too. He especially hated hair there.

 

_‘You’re growing up too fast baby.’_

 

Castiel pokes his stomach, loathe to look directly at his reflection as he does. He’s gaining weight. His stomach is full of empty promises and decaying touches. He leans over the toilet and tries to urge himself to vomit them up.

 

_‘You’re gaining too much weight. I can’t let you eat for a few weeks angel’_

 

Nothing happens. He thinks he hears rustling in his room. Or maybe not.

 

‘ _Look how big you’re getting down here Castiel! Your cock is so beautiful’_

 

He cups the front of his pants, feeling himself through the flimsy fabric, only catching one more glimpse of himself in the mirror before he’s scribbling over it with a fat sharpie. Covering it completely with black, the smell making his head spin. Now he looks at it and sees nothing but darkness. The darkness from his body. The mirror finally understands him. He feels bad for the mirror. “I’m sorry.”

He wants to turn the lights on. The lights are on.

 

‘ _If you spent less time in that damn bathroom we wouldn’t have to do this so quickly. Now hurry!’_

 

Castiel whimpers, his father is waiting for him, he’s taking entirely too long. “I should hurry” he speaks aloud to the blackened mirror, rubbing his face to make sure it’s free of hair. His father will expect him to strip and wait for him on the bed, he cannot be late, lest he wants to upset him. Castiel’s feet are slippery and the walls around him vibrate as he walks out. He smiles to himself because he thinks he hears his brothers outside playing. _That’s nice. They deserve to have some fun._

 

_‘I know you want to go out with your brothers, but daddy can play with you. You like when we play Castiel’_

 

The room is pitch dark when he finally makes it, which is weird because the bathroom is _in_ the room so it shouldn’t have felt like he’d walked the length of a football field. He stands at the end of his bed and listens to the silent command. _Strip_. As if he needs to be reminded. That was always the first rule.

He pulls his shirt off first, lamely folding it and setting it aside, then with his pants, careful not to wrinkle them. As his flesh hits the raw air he’s surprised not to feel cold or hot. There’s no distinguishing temperature to be had, just a strange pulsing that resonates over his flesh. _Tingles_. He sits on the edge of the bed waiting for his father to instruct him. Will he want pictures? 

  
_‘Stay right there, just like that angel. Now smile’_

 

Will he want Castiel to touch himself while he watches?

 

_‘Spread your legs Castiel, farther so I can see. That’s my boy’_

 

Or will he just want to jump right into it, no getting ready.

 

_‘Don’t scream. Don’t you dare scream.’_

 

Castiel folds his hands in his lap, pondering what they will be doing. What games they will be playing tonight. It’s taking him such a long time though, Castiel feels his chest quiver a tad. He shifts his eyes to the floor, the _body_ on the floor.

 

_Why is father on the floor?_

  
Sandy hair and freckles assault his vision. Blinding _light_. _Stars_. _Galaxies,_ fill his thoughts. _Dean_. The sour feeling in his stomach returns, thick with dead hope. His mind feels like it’s shoving, trying to get rid of the other side, the two at war with each other. At war with what's real and what's not.

 

_When did Dean get here? Why is father on the floor?_

 

The two sides crash violently, causing a terrible ringing to surface and reverberate throughout his eardrums, causing him to throw his hands over his ears.

 

_Dean is here. Father is coming._

 

He catches flashes of him and Dean’s earlier conversation. He feels an onslaught of adoration for emerald eyes, twinkling with the essence of heaven itself. His mind doesn’t allow the incident from earlier to resurface so he just basks in everything _good_ that Dean has done for him, bringing back to himself how complete Dean had made him feel.

 

_‘You’re a mystery Castiel Novak’_

 

He can’t stifle the yelp that falls from his lips, shocked, wide eyed, as he listens to the new voice in his head. _Never_ had he heard another voice able to break through the barriers. He doesn’t hear the rustling of sheets in his surprise.

“ _Castiel_?” That voice. That _voice_ again. But it didn’t sound like it was in his head any longer, and he whimpers out, afraid it escaped from his ears, never to return. _Don’t leave me alone._

Castiel’s eyes fly open to a figure in front of him, spluttering out noises that bounce around his ears, but never really enter; he doesn’t realize who it is in front of him, trying desperately to shake him from his stupor.

Castiel continues to wait patiently for his father until the lamp beside his bed is flicked on and he’s, too violently, thrust back into reality.

The first thing he perceives is that it’s cold. _Freezing_ actually. His arms are shaking and his legs feel like they’re paralyzed. The next is how close Dean Winchester is, his eyes full of worry and confusion. For a moment Castiel thinks Dean Winchester might be God, looking down on him questionably. His eyes widen, _I’ve been friends with god this whole time?_

“Cas man, you’re really scaring me, what’s going on?”

Those are the first real words that make their way into his ears as he shakes his head before glancing all around. He can hear the crickets chirping, the windows are blackened; it’s _night._ He furrows his eyebrows, desperately trying to listen for his brother’s laughter again. He feels a hand pat his face before he turns back, looking up at the forest and then down at himself, he’s naked. “D-Dean?” It’s the first real word he’s spoken in what feels like years, his tongue is thick and swollen in his mouth as he chokes it out.

“Yeah it’s me Cas. What’s going on? Why are you...naked?” He sounds embarrassed. He shouldn’t be embarrassed.

 

_‘Don’t be ashamed Castiel, stand here, in front of the mirror, look at your pretty skin’_

 

Castiel swallows hard as fingers are snapping in front of his face, “You gotta stop that Cas, your mind is going somewhere and it’s freaking me out.” Dean tries to coax him to stay in reality. Castiel feels a pressure on his hand, looking down to see Dean’s holding it with his own. He doesn’t feel the same blinding light this time though, doesn’t feel his brightened soul beating its way into his darkened body, no, he merely feels, _content_.

“I was waiting for him. Like he asked me to.” Castiel informs Dean plainly, because he deserves to know the truth. Dean looks around, as if he’s waiting for someone to burst out of the closet at any moment, nothing of the sort happens though. “W-Who are you talking about Cas? It’s just us. Nobody else” Dean squeezes his hand as if to make him feel the words. Castiel swallows hard. 

 

He is five years old. _No_ he is sixteen.

 

Castiel looks into Dean’s green eyes, _really_ looks into them, because suddenly they are the only connection he has to the real world, the only line from what is fabricated and what is authentic. They’re his lifeline. He cannot look away, because, if he does, he knows he’d be swallowed back up, that he’d continue waiting for his father to come until he falls over dead.

Dean looks back with the same intensity, holding his hand as if keeping him from falling back into the abyss, moving slowly, a blur of lines and sharpened colors. None of it makes sense. Dean moves around to gather Castiel’s clothes, not once peeling his eyes away, just returning the gaze, moving his hand away merely to clutch the articles of clothing.

“I am naked” Castiel states. Dean nods. Castiel feels a part of him redden and want to recoil back into itself, but that is quickly stuffed away. Dean helps Castiel put his shirt on, moving his pliant and soft limbs to shimmy into the shirt, pulling his sweats up to a point and then instructing Castiel to put them on the rest of the way.

Dean’s hands still send tiny jolts of electricity throughout his deadened skin, and he can’t help but feel the longing for Dean’s approval wash throughout his being. Perhaps it’s because he’s sitting on the bed where he had received the most attention. Perhaps it was the way Dean handled him with such care and precision, as if he would shatter at the slightest touch. What ever it is, Castiel relishes in it, tries to focus purely on that.

“There you are buddy. It’s cold. Can’t have you shivering like that again,” Dean is smiling up at him and Castiel finds his own lips tugging even though he barely understands the words that spill from his lips. Castiel wondrously looks Dean over, a thought catching on and spilling from his mouth before he can even really think about it. But, Castiel’s vision is starting to waver dangerously and nothing feels particularly real again.

“Are your bones heavy with carrying around the galaxies Dean? What about your heart? It surely has to get tired from holding the universe Dean.”  

Dean still has that smile on his face, but Castiel thinks it looks sad, he doesn’t want Dean to be sad. But his lips are too slippery to move and tell him this sentiment. His bones are missing as Dean guides his body to lay down, covering him with his quilt and patting his hair.

 

“Sure thing bud. Now get some rest.”

♢

 

Dean does not sleep for the rest of the night. He sits on Castiel’s bed for a while, making sure he’s fallen asleep, then tosses and turns, getting up every hour or so to check on the raven haired boy.

The first thing he feels is _shock_ , shock at seeing Castiel so… unhinged, speaking and staring into the distance as if not even in his own mind. Then he felt _anger_ , anger towards himself for quite possibly being the one who pushed Castiel to such a state, the way he’d stupidly kissed him. And finally _sadness_ , sadness deep within him that tells him this may not be the first time Castiel’s acted like this.

Sadness because Castiel isn’t just scared, he is _traumatized_.

Something had been so horrific that it had literally gone in and rewired the boys brain, had set up those reactions to things as innocent as a kiss. Dean closes his eyes trying to will away the onslaught of images, all the things he’d been missing, like the flinches at physical contact, the way he rushes through a crowd, how secretive and overprotective his brothers are or really just the way Castiel’s eyes would go absolutely empty at random times.

 

 _God,_ Dean thought, _how could I be so stupid?_

 

He wishes he could know exactly what has happened to Castiel to leave him so… shattered, but he knows he would never be able to outright ask him, lest he want another breakdown like that. He shudders. He hopes he never has to experience something like that again

He could very well ask Gabriel, but, somewhere inside of Dean tells him that he might not able to handle the truth. He looks over at the small body on the bed, feeling his heart beat with affection, with the _need_ to protect as he’d done with Sammy for most of his life. Castiel had a brilliant light hidden somewhere underneath all the muck and memories, Dean was sure of it.

He smiles within himself, he was going to try to help Castiel, whatever way he could, and he was going to get Castiel on the path of healing. But first he would have to speak with Gabriel.

So he waits until the sun is barely peaking over the horizon, checking on Castiel one last time before exiting the room and going into Gabriel’s, snorting when he sees his little brother splayed out over the side of the air mattress with Gabriel beside him. “Wake up you dunce” he pokes Gabriel with his toe, making him jerk awake and roll off of the air filled thing, “What the hell Dean, it’s like” he squints his eyes, looking around, finding the bright red numbers, “It’s before 9 friggin am if this isn’t good you’re going to wake up very confused in some alternate dimension the next time you shut your eyes” he growls, Dean laughs, because what kind of threat is that?

He finishes his laughter and kneels down, Sam still snoring beside them, “No. It’s about Castiel” Gabriel shoots up, eyes boring into him frantically, “What is it? Is something wrong? Is he okay?” Dean is taken aback by his reaction, placing his hand on Gabriel’s shoulders, “Chill man. No. I just wanted to ask you a few things.” Gabriel seems to visibly relax, sagging on his bed with a groan, “Deaaaaan, I hate you.” There’s no real malice as Dean laughs, “Seriously though man, Castiel, what’s wrong with him,” that is not what Dean had wanted to ask _at all_ , but he always had a tendency of vomiting words without thinking them through, Gabriel eyes shoot open and he growls defensively, “There’s nothing wrong with him! Shut your mouth! Don’t talk about him like that!”

Dean shakes his head, “No, I’m sorry, I’m sorry! That came out totally wrong… shit” How could he word this to sound appropriate? “I mean is he like- does he-fuck- I mean… like” he groans and licks his lips, he’s never been good at these kind of things. “Did something happen to him?” Very suddenly the room darkens, Gabriel’s eyes fall and Dean feels too exposed, tension crackles in the air. Gabriel’s jaw is clenched tight, the way he’s staring at the floor could burn holes straight through it, he looks angry, but also very sad, and Dean instantly feels like shit. Of course this would happen if he tried to talk about feelings.

“I’d like you to let me sleep now Dean. Thank you” Gabriel finally says, settling onto his bed, turning his back, “But-” Dean starts, but is cut off, “Please.” It’s desperate, it’s a plea, and Dean can’t help but back out of the room, shutting the door behind him. Now he’s more curious and confused than ever, he could try to ask Michael but that might not go over well since he wasn’t too close with him and Lucifer was totally off limits, Dean remembers Gabriel telling him how protective he is over Castiel.

Dean ponders as he walks back to Castiel’s room, they didn’t have any parents that he knew of, Gabriel had always tried to steer the conversation away from that topic as soon as it was brought up. Dean cursed mentally, how could he help what he didn’t know? Should he try to ask Castiel? Perhaps it would make Castiel feel better to talk about it. Maybe Dean could listen and try to help him through it. 

When he enters the bedroom, he stops at movement, watching as Castiel bunches up some his sheets and throws them in the closet, his pajama pants changed, Dean is confused at his actions but chooses to ignore them for now, making a noise so Castiel would know he entered; he swings around frantically anyway, his eyes wide with fear but calming a little when seeing it was he. Dean smiled and sat down on the now bare bed, looking over at him seriously. It was now or never.

 

“Hey Cas, can I ask you something?”

 

* * *

 

 _'You are so ungrateful, you little brat. Who are you to deny me anything?’ Castiel cowered on the floor, wedged between their bed and the desk, his entire body shaking with fear. His father had a bad day at work, Michael and Lucifer had ganged up on him and to put all the pieces together Castiel had not wanted to play with any of his toys. Castiel did not like his father’s toys, they were large and they hurt too bad, leaving him not able to sit for days, not only that but his father would always croon in his ear, telling him how one day it would be_ his _dick inside of him. His was so much bigger, Castiel thought it would rip him right open. ‘You should be thankful for what I do for you Castiel! I keep you healthy, I keep you safe, I give you my heart. You are ungrateful! You don’t deserve anything and yet I give you everything!’ Castiel held his hands over his head, hoping his father would not strike him; he knew he should be thankful like his father said, but he was just_ so _scared, ‘are you going to say anything you little shit?’ He knelt down in front of the small boy, anger radiating from his aura; Castiel felt his throat constrict, ‘I-I’m sorry daddy, p-please don’t be mad at-’ the force of his hand across Castiel’s face made his eyes water and body jerk, but he was unable to cry out before he was jerked up, ‘I’ll show you what bad boys get!’ Castiel was marched toward the bed, but found the fear more overpowering, his father would be so much angrier now, trying to run towards the bathroom. ‘Don’t. You. Dare. Walk away from me young man or I’ll make you_ wish _you hadn’t’ his voice was dangerous, his voice promised pain. Castiel stopped dead on his feet, feeling a hand tighten around the back of his neck in his lapse, his body forcefully shoved over the slightly raised footboard; his hands flying out to steady himself as his pants were literally torn from his body. ‘Please I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry’ Castiel sobbed, hiding his face in the crook of his arm as his father held the back of his neck down, grumbling as he reached inside his ‘special’ box and pulled out a large sex toy, ‘Ungrateful boy. Such a bad, bad boy.’ Castiel felt tears as they spilt down his face, he had made the only person who loved him angry with him. ‘See if you can run away from me after this’ It was challenge, a threat, a promise. His father raised his bottom to his liking and, without preparation, shoved the dildo straight into Castiel, smirking at the choked scream that filled the room, ‘this is what you deserve, Castiel, for being such a bad boy,’ Castiel tried to tell himself that, as he felt it buried to the hilt inside of him, tried to remind himself that he deserved this for being so ungrateful. That this was his penance. His father was merely trying to help him. But his head was filled with nothing but pain as the toy was shoved in and out. ‘You deserve this Castiel. Do you understand me? I want to hear you say it’ Castiel is biting down on his lip too hard to respond, that was until the thing was shoved impossibly deeper and twisted, ‘I said say it Castiel!’ Castiel opened his mouth a few times before he could form cohesive words, ‘I-I deserve this!’ choked out and small, ‘Why? Tell me why Castiel’ he felt something inside of him tear, white, hot, burning pain throughout his abdomen; his legs shook violently. ‘B-because I’m a bad boy! I deserve this because I’m bad!’ His father mercifully slowed down, stopped with the twisting motions, just pumping it back and forth for a while longer before just leaving the thick thing inside him. ‘That’s right. Now I hope you’ve learned your lesson young man’ His father was knelt beside him, gripping his chin, looking into his watery blue eyes, ‘I hate punishing you angel’ his voice was gruff, there was no remorse, ‘But I-I do so much for you, you need to understand.’ Castiel nodded hard, sniffling, just wanted the large thing out from pressing at the horrible pain. ‘I un-understand daddy’ the older man smiled, patting his head, reaching back and taking the toy out, making a strange sound at seeing the thing covered in blood, ‘shit’ it was muttered but Castiel still felt fear rise within him, feeling something thick ooze from his bottom, ‘Okay, just, here, lay down, up here, let me go get a washcloth’ Castiel cried out as he was handled onto the bed, quickly folding into fetal position, the pain unbearable. He reached back behind himself, feeling a jolt of pain before bringing his hand back up, dark with blood. As he heard the footsteps of his father he quickly shut his eyes, lips moved in a ghost of a whisper, ‘I deserve this. I deserve this.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think!  
> I'm sorry this chapter isn't that good...its setting up to answer some very vital questions. I don't know, I lost a lot of confidence after this one...so the next chapter may be a time while I try to regain confidence in this again. Apologies.


	5. Into The Water Pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean surprises Castiel. Castiel surprises himself. Fluff before the storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends. First of all, I am extremely sorry for such a late update, like I said I had lost so much confidence in this and I also started university, so most of my time is dedicated to med school. PLUS, I was admitted to the hospital for a couple days but I'm okay. I PROMISE I will never abandon this because I'm having too much fun writing it. So if you guys promise to be patient I promise to keep delivering, even if it takes a bit. Sound like a deal? 
> 
> To those of you who are confused, I promise questions will start being answered, and the things that seem not to hold importance will soon be regarded. SO other than that thanks for reading/waiting/reviewing. Love you guys. 
> 
> This chapter has some fluff in it because it's about to get pretty angsty afterwards. Sorry but not really. 
> 
> As always ITALICS contain GRAPHIC child abuse at times. Be advised. No Beta so mistakes are made. Please go easy, this chapter was hard to write from the hospital.

* * *

_‘_ _You are growing up so much Castiel, it makes me so sad’ his father commented, running his hand through the raven hair of the boy sitting in the bathtub. Castiel drew his knees up, wrapped his arms around them and laid his head to the side of the tub; he’d never felt so sick in his entire life, surely he was getting worse. ‘Dad…why am I still so sick?' he asked, but he was pretty sure he already knew the answer. His father had said he would make him better, but he wasn’t; deep inside a whisper of a voice accused his father, told him it was his fault that he constantly felt like this. All the ‘pills’ he’d been taking that were supposed to help him only made him more nauseous, ‘I know baby boy, but I promise, you will feel better soon’ he smiled, but the gesture didn't make Castiel feel better, no, it made him feel icky inside, made his skin crawl, the feeling scared him. His father had never gave him these kinds of emotions, he wasn’t supposed to feel this way about the man who loved him so much. But he couldn’t help but have doubts. To have suspicions. He may have only been thirteen, but he prided himself on his studies, despite being home schooled, he was very well educated and he knew, in the back of his mind, something was off. But he pushed that aside and let his father bathe him, feeling the way fingers flexed their way through his hair, soaping it up and massaging, it felt good. He secretly liked times like these, when he didn’t have to perform anything, just felt loved and reveled in innocent affection that was merely a hand through his hair or a washcloth scrubbing his arms, but he knew it wouldn’t last, that his father would want to play soon. After his father was done washing his body totally clean he handed Castiel a little razor, smiling down at the boy who looked up at him curiously, ‘Dad?’ The older man picked up some shaving cream too, squeezing a little on his hand, ‘You’re getting older Castiel, that means you’ll start growing hair in places, but I don’t like when you have hair, I still want you to be my little boy, so I want you to shave’ he instructed, helped him out of the bath and wrapped him in a towel. Castiel had never shaved before, he wasn’t sure what to do; he hadn’t even realized it before, but now he could see, just barely, little hairs growing on his face, it was intriguing. But just as soon as he inspected them his father was spreading cream on it, taking the stick from his hand and putting it to his face, dragging it down, gently taking the hair off. Castiel stood completely still, feeling the blade touch his flesh and not wanting to get cut, his throat sliced open or something. When his father finished he patted Castiel’s face dry and smiled, caressed his face a moment and moved down, holding his neck, reaching down and kissed him, ‘You’re so beautiful baby. My little boy’ he praised and moved his hands down further, wrapping around Castiel’s cock, which doesn’t surprise him like it used to. He fondled him a bit, moving his tongue around in the young boys mouth before stopping a moment, leaving Castiel worried he’d done something wrong, ‘What dad-‘ his father stopped him by kneeling down and inspecting his genitals, making a disapproving noise. ‘I need to shave you down here too, I don’t like when you have hair down here Castiel, it’s gross, next time I will expect you to do it. Do you understand?’ he said it angrily and Castiel nodded in agreement, not understanding his distaste of something that he’d just told him was normal. He was lathered with shaving cream again and carefully shaved, he was more worried this time, he really didn’t want to get cut down there with how much his father insisted on touching him. Castiel stood obediently, thinking about anything but what was happening, reaching into the back of his head and remembering the time he’d snuck downstairs and was allowed to play chess with Michael. It was fun. He had enjoyed it up until Michael had started asking him strange questions like, what he and father did when they were going to bed or if father ever said things to him that made him uncomfortable, albeit, he’d never been able to answer before he was found and marched up to their room. He was pulled from his trance when his father finished, he dropped the stick in the trash and dried him. ‘There we go’ he seemed pleased with himself, like he’d just dressed a doll to his liking, a thought which Castiel quickly pushed from his mind, too afraid at how true the statement was. How he was malleable and pliant, moved and submitted whichever way his father expected; he was an obedient child, too afraid of the repercussion if he didn’t. His father owned him and, Castiel thought miserably as his father picked out a toy for him, he always would._

 

* * *

 

Castiel’s head buzzed, muddled and disoriented. He vaguely remembers the breakdown he’d had hours ago, the last tangible remnant of it was felt in the dizzying pain of vomit sloshing in his stomach.

To make things worse he had actually _wet_ the bed, something he had stopped doing when he was thirteen and learned how to control his night terrors. He felt embarrassed and childish; not only had he _wet the freaking bed,_ but he had done it with Dean _freaking_ Winchester in the room. _Smooth_. Real smooth.

He bunched up the soiled sheets and threw them in the closet, intent on cleaning them later when no one could question it or see; that’s all he needed, his brothers having _another_ reason to hover over him. He works quickly and quietly, feeling his stomach slowly settling in the calmness.

But, all too suddenly, the silence is broken by a noise causing him to fling around, relaxing only after he sees it’s just Dean, to which he hurriedly tries to block the view to the closet.

 

“Hey Cas, can I ask you something?”

 

Oh. God. _No._ He wanted to scream. _No_ , that was never a good way to start a conversation; it usually meant he would have to talk about himself, or something he’d done wrong.

“Uh... _sure_?” It was a question essentially. _Did he want to know?_ Dean furrows his brows, pursing his lips, his silence a strong indicator that he was more conflicted than Castiel felt, which made dread further fill the youngest Novak, _whatever it is, it’s making Dean Winchester worried…_

“Have _you…_ ” Dean stops, opens his mouth then closes it, “Would _you…_ ” Another fishlike gape, “Did _you…_ ” Castiel feels immensely confused, walking a little closer to the poor boy, “Dean?” He mutters low, questioning.

“Are _you…_ free next Friday? Would you like to go out with me?” Castiel lets out a whoosh of air when he hears no mention of _‘father’_ or _‘urinating’_ and _wait a minute…_

 

 _Did Dean Winchester just ask me on a date?_ His mind steadily supplies.

 

  
And all too suddenly Castiel feels the air escape him _completely_ , peeking apprehensively into the vibrant greens in front of him, “Uh- _uh_ ” He has never been on a date. He has never even been with _other_ people up until school. “Yes?” He squints and looks at Dean, unsure. The answer seems to be the right one because Dean smiles brightly, a smile that sent thrums of static coursing through Castiel’s body, prickling at his nerves and igniting his skin with flush; a smile that causes Castiel’s own lips to quirk up in a small one.

“Awesome” Dean nods, but it looks as though something is still bothering the boy, like perhaps that’s not what he had wanted to ask him. But Castiel has no time to worry about that because his head is immediately swarming with questions about their… _date_. Where would they go? What would they do? What was customary? Would they be going as friends or something… _more? Impossible_. Castiel shook his head to get those stupid ideas out, he knows no one would ever want someone as used and defiled as him. _Anyway_ , who was _he_ to give himself to someone? For he did not own himself. _No_. His father made sure of that, even in eternal absence.

 

“I’ll pick you up around 7, we can catch some dinner. I know an awesome place, you’ll love it”

 

Castiel nods without really agreeing. He has never been _out_ to eat, he’s rarely even been _out_ in public; not only that, but it will also be without his brothers protection. Dean leaves the room before Castiel can change his mind, giving him no other choice but to just go. Perhaps he would like it. He likes Dean. He likes being around Dean, more than he’s ever liked being around anyone.

But Dean made him feel _differently_ now, when Castiel thought of him he thought of the kiss and then he thought about his father; even _he_ knew that wasn’t normal. Yet, on the other hand, the idea of spending the day with Dean made his insides ignite with excitement, it is something he wants to do, he thinks. Even though Dean isn’t what he thought he was in the beginning Dean is still, well, _Dean,_ and he made Castiel feel things he’d never felt before. So, why not go?

 

He nods his head. He will go.

♢

 

 _Thursday_.

 

One more day before Castiel’s date with Dean; he had done tons of research, reading up on the internet about how to act, what to talk about and what was appropriate, albeit he still felt extremely nervous that he would screw it up. He had a tendency to do that; take something simple, overcomplicate it, and, in turn, make everyone around him uncomfortable. He would need real world advice, which would mean he would have to talk to Gabriel, who frequently dated. Building the courage to go and talk to him was another story, he sat on his bed staring at the wall, willing himself to get up, standing and then sitting again quickly.

Perhaps he _shouldn’t_ go on the date. Why would anyone want to go anywhere with him? Besides that, he’s never been out in public like that, what if he has a panic attack? Or someone tries to hurt him? What if he gets sick again? He shakes his head violently, trying to release the thoughts beating against his skull, they’re starting to sound like his father.

 

_‘It’s too dangerous to go out there Castiel. People want to hurt you’_

 

No. _No!_ He would go on this date. He was asked for a reason, whatever it was, Dean wanted to go out with him and that was enough. “I will go” he whispers to himself or, rather, the voice in his head, “I am not sick. I will be safe.” Now all he has to do is talk to Gabriel, ask about the essentials and he would be okay. He will be okay. He nods and exits the room, just letting his feet take him, finding all of his brothers in the kitchen, for a moment he just stands behind the frame, watching them as per usual, feeling like a child again. Watching his father pour a glass of whiskey. Watching Michael do his homework. Watching the room until it morphed into something unrecognizable. “Cassie? You okay?” Castiel blinks away his fog and turns toward a confused looking Gabriel. _Now or never_ , he thinks.

“Gabriel, when going on a date, what is the proper etiquette?” he asks quickly, sliding into a seat at the table, anxiously watching as Lucifer freezes from writing and Michael turns around from the stove. Gabriel raises a brow in surprise, looking Castiel up and down to see if it may be an attempt at dry humor. It’s not. “Why?” Gabriel smiles a tad to hide his brimming fear; either Castiel has actually been asked on a date _or_ he’s having a very strange breakdown right in front of them.

“I-” Castiel gazes to all of his brothers, who are now focused intently on him, it makes him nervous. “I may...have a date?” Another mind crushing silence before Lucifer pipes up, “What are you talking about Castiel? With who? Are you sure they weren’t just…” He scratches the back of his neck, not sure how to explain it, worried that someone has asked him out as a joke and he’s taking it seriously _._

“Dean Winchester asked me.” For some reason Castiel feels defensive about their doubts; it makes him feel inadequate, like perhaps they think such a thing could never happen to poor, sad Castiel.

Lucifer groans loudly, putting a hand over his face while Michael shakes his head and turns to Gabriel, “Really Gabe? Can't that kid leave it in his pants? Targeting people who don’t know any better-” Castiel has rarely ever raised his voice to his brothers, so his shouting comes as a shock to all of them, “I’m not stupid!” He sees their surprise and suddenly feels bad about yelling, looking down at the floor, “Don’t say I don’t know any better. I am not an invalid and- and I’m old enough to go out with a... friend.”

Silence is heavy for a moment before Michael speaks up, “You’re right- look you’re right Castiel. You’re perfectly capable of making your own decisions and if you want to go out on a date with… _Dean…_ then you have my permission,” he looks like he wants to say something else, but probably thought better of it. Castiel jumps when Gabriel claps his hand on his back, “Come, I’ll teach you a thing or two” he has this sly smile, shooting a glance at Michael and Lucifer, leading Castiel back to his room. Castiel has a feeling he isn’t going to like what he hears.

 

♢

 

_‘Stupid little Castiel. Do you really think someone would ever want you?’_

 

“No.”

 

_‘I told you. I told you, no one will ever understand you’_

 

“I know.”

 

_‘No one will ever make you feel like I did’_

 

“Please don’t-”

 

“Castiel? Who are you talking to?” Lucifer walks in, looking at the boy in trepidation, moving slowly, loathe to scare him. It takes him a moment to come back, the voice in his head dispersing and letting him focus finally. “Luce?” Castiel sits up from his lying position, peering over at his brother. “Are you feeling okay Castiel? It’s okay if you don’t feel good. If you wanted I could call Dean and tell him you don’t feel well enough to-” but Castiel shakes his head, he has to do this. He has to prove to _himself_ that he can do this; that he can survive without his brothers, that he can do things on his own free will, that his father could no longer dictate his story.

“Okay. I just, I worry.” Lucifer informs, sitting down next to him on the bed and smiling, it’s a sad smile. “Don’t be sad Lucifer. Please. I’m sorry,” Castiel desperately pleads, he hates seeing his brothers sad because of him. He’s caused them enough grief. Lucifer takes his hand, waiting a moment, making sure it’s okay to touch before squeezing reassuringly, “Hey-hey now, no need to apologize. I’m not sad. It’s okay to want to do things Castiel, yo-you deserve that.” Lucifer smiles down at his little brother, giving him a hug before informing him of the time and leaving him to get ready.

It takes Castiel a couple tries, but he finally finds an acceptable outfit: a dark blue shirt, it’s a bit casual but could pass as a slight dress shirt, paired with a nice pair of black jeans. Gabriel told him not to wear a tuxedo because Dean never usually did _those_ kind of dates and it would make him look _too_ desperate. Albeit Castiel wasn’t sure _what_ he would be looking desperate for.

The clock reads seven so he hurries downstairs and waits for the sound of the Impala, nervously digging his fingernails into his palm and nibbling on the inside of his cheek. What if something went wrong? What if Dean realized how irrevocably broken he is? What if-

“He’s here Cassie!” Gabriel gushes, smoothing down Castiel’s hair and pushing him toward the door, “Remember what I said okay? Be mysterious but also show him that you’re open. Don’t seem easy though, and if he invites you back to his house or his Impala early say no. Got it?” He doesn’t wait for a nod, just opens the door before Dean even knocks, smiling at him before pushing Castiel forward, “Evening Dean, just remember to have him back before eleven and-” Gabriel stops a moment, a frown forming on his face, Castiel thinks he might want to say something about not doing anything inappropriate but, as usual, is too afraid to mention anything like that around Castiel. “Just… play nice.” Dean shakes his head with a smile, “Shut up Gabriel, c’mon Castiel, I’m starving” he smiles and waits until Castiel follows, holding the car door open for him and quickly moving them on their way. There’s a thick silence in the car but Castiel’s head is louder than ever before.

♢

 

Castiel walks close to Dean as they enter the diner, observing all of the people, there are more than he had expected. Families, couples and loners, all sitting around and chatting amiably. Castiel knows he should feel comfortable, that these humans would never hurt him, but his father’s voice ricochets through his head, warning him because _maybe he was right._

 

_‘Those people out there, they want to hurt you. The only place you’re safe is here, here with me.’_

 

“Cas” Dean smiles, nudging his shoulder a tad and pointing to their table, which is, unfortunately, right next to a rather large party of people. Castiel forces a smile, remembering what the internet had said ‘ _make sure to smile, show interest’_ sitting down in the seat that Dean pulls out and watching him take his own. “Thank you Dean. This place is…” he really does try to hide the grimace, “Lovely.”

 _But_ , he wonders vaguely, could it really be lovely if he had nothing to compare it to? Would that be a fair assessment? Castiel was about to panic about having unfair judgements, but is pulled from his head by Dean saying his name slightly louder, “Cas!” He looks up quickly, there’s a waitress standing before them, looking at him curiously, “Yes. Oh. Sorry” he shakes his head, peering over at Dean for explanation, “What would you like to drink?” Dean’s voice is smooth, he doesn’t sound distraught like his brothers usually do when they find Castiel recessing in his head, he merely sounds as if he’s trying to gently pull him from his reverie.

“Tea. Thanks. Sorry” He curses within himself; he can’t even form a proper sentence! The lady jots their orders down and saunters away, Castiel nervously rubs his knuckles with his thumb, looking toward the rowdy table next to them for a moment.

“You do that a lot huh?” Dean asks, leaning on his arm. Castiel thinks for a moment, looking at him with a cocked head, “ _Do…_?” He feels his face creep red because _now they have to talk about themselves_.

“Zone out, take a bit of a vacation up here,” he taps his own head for effect, Castiel looks down ashamedly, “I-I try not to but… sometimes it makes things easier” He confesses, and it’s the truth. When he can crawl up into the blackness of his head he can feel numb for a little while, he can feel safe, enclosed. His head understood him.

 

_‘Get out of your head Castiel, open your damn eyes and look at me.’_

 

Stop. _Stop._ He mentally coaxes himself, he needs to stop, he needs to focus on Dean, _Dean that_ held the light Castiel had never seen before. But thinking about Dean too hard and he was back to the kiss, it made him feel sick inside. He has to try though, he has to try and see what he had seen in Dean before. Dean was good. Dean is good.

 

“...And that’s why I love this diner so much.” _Fuck_. Castiel had totally been ignoring him, but he decides to just smile and nod.

 

Their order is ushered out to them before Dean can ask any more damning questions, allowing Castiel to just listen to stories about him and his brother Sam; he enjoys it. Likes to listen to Dean talk about his brother because his smile becomes wide and infectious, because he, too, knows the love brothers can hold. He seemingly talks till he doesn’t have any stories left.  

They eat in silence for a while, Castiel taking small bites, his stomach still doing flip flops in nervousness. The table across from them is becoming increasingly louder and Castiel cringes every time they grow an octave or throw something around. Dean watches him closely, seeing the way his face pales and his eyes dart around nervously, like he’s waiting for someone to attack him. “Cas, you don’t talk a lot, tell me about yourself” Dean shakes his head, feeling like a sappy idiot for asking such a thing, but he’s so desperate to have a conversation and learn _something_ about what makes Castiel  the way he is, that he would probably do anything.

 

Castiel swallows hard, not really registering what is being said, just watching the table across theirs and flinching every so often. Dean realizes he won’t be getting anything out of Castiel in this state so he flags down the waitress.

 

“Excuse me ma’am, can we get these to go?” Castiel hears this, looking up at Dean bewilderedly, watching as the waitress takes their food and boxes it in little styrofoam cases.

 

“Dean what are we doing?” Castiel inquires finally, following Dean out the doors, holding on tight to his food. Albeit being confused, he is relieved, being away from the rowdy table and the loud noises, finally able to hear his own thoughts. “You were uncomfortable-” Dean smiles toward him, guiding him to the car. “Dean you didn’t have-” but Dean holds up his hand and stops him, “It’s okay Cas, I have a better place we can go.” Castiel feels his lips twitch, a real smile spreading across his face, a feeling of warmth blooming throughout his chest. Dean left his favorite diner for him. Dean saw that he was uncomfortable and wanted to change that. _Dean is good_.

 

They drive in comfortable silence, they don't  _have_ to say anything, just being _together_ was enough for the two. For Castiel at least.

 

They drive for a while, Castiel watching as the lights whiz past them and soon buildings become scarce until, finally, they’re surrounded only by farmland and forest. “I think you’re really cool Cas” Dean breaks the silence and Castiel has to process what he said for a moment. Cool. Dean thinks he’s cool. Castiel is pretty sure that’s a good thing so he just smiles over at him, the setting sun casting an orange glow that contrasted with Dean's complexion beautifully.

Dean is beautiful. Dean is full of light. “You’re good Dean” Castiel replies and Dean just smiles like he _knew_ whatever was going to come out of Castiel’s mouth he wouldn’t understand. They smile for a moment, Castiel’s eyes linger for a while longer on Dean’s emerald one’s _but,_ Dean doesn’t look unnerved, he looks how Castiel feels. Peaceful. So they continue in the comfortable silence.

A few minutes later they arrive at a narrow dirt road, navigating down until they reach a cleared area and park. Castiel unbuckles and exits quickly, suddenly remembering what Gabriel had said about leaving and becoming a little worried. They are close to the woods, surrounded by tree and brush; _secluded_. “Hey now,” Dean walks over and touches his chin, surprising the boy, “Don’t look so nervous. I’m not going to hurt ya” he smiles, but Castiel feels his insides ice over at the words. He knew Dean didn’t mean anything by them, but he remembers hearing those same words.

 

_‘Stop crying Castiel, I’m not going to hurt you’_

  
  
It usually did hurt. He stumbles back a tad, staring at Dean, waiting for him to pounce, but he doesn’t, he just stands there looking confused. “I didn’t mean to scare you Cas, I’m sorry” He sounds remorseful, Castiel shakes his head; Dean is not his father. He is safe. _He is safe._

“I-I am okay” Castiel tries to convince himself, letting Dean guide their way. They weave around the brush for what seems like hours before coming upon a large lake. The water shimmers and glistens with the setting sun; calm, not even a current upsetting it, just small ripples of fish and other creatures. It’s beautiful. Castiel looks at the expanse of water in awe.

Dean watches _Castiel_ watch the water with a smile, faltering a bit at what he sees in Castiel’s expression, like he’s never actually _seen_ a lake before, like it’s the most wonderful discovery he’s ever had.

 

What the hell did the Novak’s do their whole life? He wonders.

 

“Cas. Have you… have you ever seen a lake before?” he asks before he even realizes it’s spilling from his mouth, sinking back a little just in case Castiel becomes defensive, but the boy just continues to stare, shaking his head ‘no’. Now Dean is looking at Castiel in awe, he was an anomaly, truly.

“Man, were you kept inside your whole life?” Dean jokes, trying to break the heaviness of the moment but, _instead_ , Castiel shifts his gaze, broken from his reverie; the expression that crosses his face makes Dean ache and immediately regret saying anything. “Yes. I… I was” Castiel replies in a small voice, looking back up apprehensively. The elder Winchester has millions of questions forming in his head but he doesn’t say anything because, if _this_ is how sad he looks mentioning just _that_ he couldn’t imagine trying to delve any deeper at the moment. He would have to try later. Right now he needed to cheer Castiel up.

Suddenly he gets an idea, “What about swimming Cas? Have you ever been swimming?” Castiel looks surprised, like he was expecting to get more hard questions, shaking his head and biting his lip, feeling a bit embarrassed for the first time about his lack of experience, “No.”

Dean smiles and starts to take off his shirt, “Then I guess I’ll have to teach you huh?” He feels a bit of gooseflesh rise on his bare torso, nodding and smiling toward Castiel in encouragement. Castiel, on the other hand, looks scared out of his wits, stepping back when Dean takes his shirt off, “W-what? _Here_? Is that safe?” He asks, looking at the water and then back to Dean who makes a noise, “Pfft, Cas, who cares if it’s safe. We’re teenagers, nothing we do is supposed to be safe. It’s awesome I swear, I will be here to help you, I promise.” Those emeralds are shining with childlike amusement that Castiel finds a tad infectious, he wishes Dean to smile like that more.

“O-okay” Castiel obliges, nodding his head and watching Dean shimmy out of his jeans. He truly is handsome, Castiel inspects: his skin is tan, kissed by the sun with millions of freckles. Muscles are clearly defined and his stomach is tight and strong. Castiel finds his eyes traveling down, toward the bulge in his boxers, feeling a thrum of electricity charge through and crackle his skin, _yes,_ Castiel can definitely say he’s attracted to Dean Winchester.

 

_‘You’re mine Castiel. No one will ever make you feel like I can’_

 

Castiel jumps at the voice that _screams_ , booming loud in his head. A warning. Castiel looks away, down at his crooked fingers to bring himself back to, remind himself of his place. “Your turn Cas,” Dean smiles, unknowing and Castiel looks up with wide eyes. He, too, has to take his clothes off? “M-my clothes? Do I have to take them off?” He stammers and Dean chuckles a bit.

“Yeah Cas, unless you want to walk in sopping wet, heavy ass clothes” he laughs and Castiel swallows hard, “O-okay. Yeah. O-okay” his hands refuse to move for a moment, only after a bit of coaxing they slowly reach up and pull his shirt off. He doesn’t undress with the haste he used to, _no_ , this time he moves languidly, _he_ is choosing to take his clothes off. This was _his_ choice. Dean wouldn’t make him if he said no. Dean would understand if he hadn’t wanted to.

His shirt is on top of Dean’s now and Castiel inspects his own pale, scrawny torso. His ribcage is still a bit jutted out, the skin waxy and stretched over; he’d been trying to gain weight for a while. For a moment he half expects to see finger bruises on his hips, but there are none, the only remnants of the past are thin, pale scars on his hips, something his brothers had put a stop to very soon.

He takes a moment before he realizes Dean is, too, staring at him and suddenly a feeling flows through him, something that he doesn’t think he’s ever felt before. Self-consciousness. He doesn’t want Dean, Dean who is perfect, looking at him. He isn’t beautiful like Dean. He will never be beautiful.

After another brief hesitation he builds enough courage to take his pants off, keeping his arms in front of his boxers to shield himself. Dean takes another moment before he clears his throat and his face shines red, something Castiel doesn’t understand, but quickly shoves away when Dean grabs his hand, “C’mon!” He smiles and guides them both toward the lake, stopping at the edge, leaving Castiel to stare down at the water with new found fear. He’s _never_ been swimming before, this hits him suddenly, what if he drowns? What if Dean does? He couldn’t help him.

“Dean I-” He’s scared. He’s really scared. But Dean leans in close, his breath on Castiel’s neck smelling different than he expects. It’s not stale whiskey and tainted words, but rather fresh mint and life. “Do you trust me?”

Castiel freezes a moment. Does he trust Dean? He remembers the touches, the smiles, the _cocoon._ Everything that made up Dean, it was all extraordinary, space and star dust beaten into flesh and bone. No matter what Dean had done Castiel could still feel, surging from Dean’s hand to his, the light inside of him, perhaps not _virtue_ , not _purity_ but _life_ , the feeling of not just _existing_ but truly being _alive_.

For the first time Castiel’s life he does, “Yes Dean. I trust you.” Dean breaks into a wide smile and pulls back, grasping Castiel’s hand and nods, “One… two… _three…_ ” Castiel closes his eyes tight, holds onto Dean’s hand tightly.

 

and they both jump.

 

* * *

 

_His father was gradually becoming angrier, every day his anger would grow stronger until it wouldn’t matter how accurately Castiel obeyed, he’d still be upset with him, would still leave him with bruises and unable to shake the brutal assault as he usually could. His father was scared, he was scared and worried and, as per usual, he projected it to anger. Michael was constantly interrogating him, asking him questions about Castiel and insinuating he knew that things were happening, although, he knew Michael would never build a case without actual proof, that he would be too afraid to go to the police for they had no mother or family and to break up the family would mean to never see his brothers again; so that wasn’t something he decided to dwell on, rather Castiel, how much he was breaking, from the inside out. He seemed to be caving back into himself, back into his mind till he seemed totally vacant when they would do things, like he wasn’t even there. Castiel knew how to take himself out of the situation now, if not physically but mentally. Perhaps that was why his father was angry, angry to get a reaction out of the boy. To make him lash out emotionally. It’s no fun breaking someone who was already broken. So his father set forth trying to awaken something inside of the boy again. Castiel had been reading ‘The Hobbit’ when his father entered the room, although he hadn’t looked up, so it could have been anyone, but he knew, he could smell the alcohol and dominance that seemed to radiate off his entirety. Not to mention the slosh of a bottle in the older man’s hand, which was different, usually he drank downstairs. Castiel shut the book, pulling out his maths homework and trying to show his father, ‘Dad look I got the highest sco-’ a hand sailed across his cheek, ripping the paper in front of him and knocking him back, confused. Castiel looked up at his father shocked, watching as he pulled a malicious smile across his lips, taking a small swig. Castiel wondered what had changed, his father had used to be so loving, so gentle with his touches, but now it seemed like he couldn’t get enough, like he was hungry for every inch of Castiel, like he wanted to ravage him and pick his bones clean. The love was missing and it was purely full of personal gain, his father no longer cared what happened to him when he was brutal. His ‘I love you’s’ and ‘you’re beautiful's’ were grunted during blow jobs or beaten into his skin with a fist. ‘Get your ass up on that bed Castiel or god so help you’ Castiel didn’t need another warning before he scrambled on the bed and lied stock still while his father crawled up beside him. He gave the young boy a smile that sent shivers up his spine, ‘Look at you baby’ his voice was slurred, ‘God you’re so fucking hot.’ Castiel realized how much of an object he was to his father in these moments, he wasn’t a human, he was a puppet, but he didn’t want to think about that so he rolled his head to the side, inviting him to do whatever he wanted, trying to poke back into the darkness of his head, but his father caught on this time, pulling his head back over. ‘Oh no no. Not this time’ he growled and suddenly was shoving the bottle of whatever he had between Castiel’s lips, ‘You’re lucky Castiel. You’re lucky I’m not taking you right here on my own dick, but I am a good father and I am waiting until you are ready. You’re lucky to have a father as forgiving as me’ he hissed when Castiel spluttered around the bottle as it was shoved further down his throat, giving him no option but to swallow it. It was bitter and it burned like nothing he’d ever tasted before, it was horrible. His father forced him to drink, only stopping whenever he looked like he was going to puke and then forced him to drink again until the bottle was empty. Castiel leaned up and coughed when it was thrown aside, stopping when the room immediately began to spin. It moved quickly, colors blurred and the walls vibrated; his head was a slosh of water. Just like the bottle. He blinked slowly to stop the blurring, but it was no use. His father watched him in amusement; perhaps it wouldn’t stop him from totally being in his head but it was good for a change of scenery. ‘That’a boy, just like your old man’ Castiel couldn’t find it in him to even register the words being spoken to him just felt something bubble up in his chest and suddenly he’s laughing. He was not sure why but he was, just giggled uncontrollably, interrupted only with a hiccup. His father could work with this, at least it was an emotion other than apathy. Castiel felt his clothes being torn from his body and found no ounce in him to care, nor the fight even if he did. He felt like he couldn’t hold his limbs up, held down with the weight of the alcohol. He didn’t even feel his father grabbing him, stroking him hard, that sensation didn’t go unnoticed though; he writhed up against him, trying to get more friction to relieve the intense pain and pressure that surrounded his groin, no longer thinking about how dirty he’d felt last time his father had made him release. His mind was too hazy, like a fog storm was swallowing his brain up whole, not allowing anything to penetrate it. The only thing he was focused on was what little slivers he could feel, because it was frightening, not being able to feel anything else; even if it was something as grotesque as this, at least he could feel in control. But the worry of that slowly melted into incoherence within his drunken state, barely feeling something enter him, perhaps it was a toy or fingers, he wasn’t sure, just that he felt something down there and he needed to focus on that because that was real, not the sloppy mess in his head. So he moved in sync with object within him, not even thinking about how much he would hate himself in the morning._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter is horrible but please remember I was writing this in the hospital and that place seriously puts me in a writing damper. Please take that into consideration. I apologize. Pt II. coming this week


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